R0NCH 

;Y-IM  JAY-TAYLOR 


CALEB  TRENCH 


CALEB  TRENCH 


BY 


MARY   IMLAY   TAYLOR 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  REAPING,"  "  THE 
IMPERSONATOR,"  ETC. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE  BY 

EMLEN    McCONNELL 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 
1910 


Copyright,  1910, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved 
Published  March,  1910 


THE  UNIVERSITY   PHES8,    CAMBRIDGE,   U.  8.  A. 


CALEB  TRENCH 


2229145 


CALEB   TRENCH 


DIANA   ROYALL   pushed   back  the   music- 
rack  and  rose  from  her  seat  at  the  piano. 
"  Show  the  person  in  here,  Kingdom." 

The  negro  disappeared,  and  Diana  moved  slowly 
to  the  table  at  the  farther  end  of  the  long  room,  and 
stood  there  turning  over  some  papers  in  her  leisurely, 
graceful  way. 

"Who  in  the  world  is  it  now?"  Mrs.  Eaton  asked, 
looking  up  from  her  solitaire,  "a  book  agent?" 

"Caleb  Trench,"  Diana  replied  carelessly,  "the 
shopkeeper  at  Eshcol." 

"The  storekeeper?"  Mrs.  Eaton  looked  as  if 
Diana  had  said  the  chimney-sweep.  "What  in  the 
world  does  he  want  of  you,  my  dear?" 

Diana  laughed.  "How  should  I  know?"  she  re- 
torted, with  a  slight  scornful  elevation  of  her  brows; 
"we  always  pay  cash  there." 

"I  wonder  that  you  receive  him  in  the  drawing- 
room,"  Mrs.  Eaton  remonstrated,  shuffling  her  cards 
with  delicate,  much  be-ringed  fingers,  and  that  in- 
definable manner  which  lingers  with  some  old  ladies, 
like  their  fine  old  lace  and  their  ancestors,  and  is  at 

i 


2  CALEB  TRENCH 

once  a  definition  and  classification.  Thus,  one  could 
see,  at  a  glance,  that  Mrs.  Eaton  had  been  a  belle 
before  the  war,  for,  as  we  all  know,  the  atmosphere 
of  belledom  is  as  difficult  to  dissipate  and  forget  as 
the  poignant  aroma  of  a  moth-ball  in  an  old  fur  coat, 
though  neither  of  them  may  have  served  the  pur- 
poses of  preservation. 

The  girl  made  no  reply,  and  the  older  woman  was 
instinctively  aware  of  her  indifference  to  her  opinions, 
uttered  or  unexpressed.  There  were  times  when 
Diana's  absorption  of  mood,  her  frank  inattention, 
affected  her  worldly  mentor  as  sharply  as  a  slap  in 
the  face,  yet,  the  next  moment,  she  fell  easily  under 
the  spell  of  her  personality.  Mrs.  Eaton  always  felt 
that  no  one  could  look  at  her  youthful  relative  with- 
out feeling  that  her  soul  must  be  as  beautiful  as  her 
body,  though  she  herself  had  never  been  able  to 
form  any  estimate  of  that  soul.  Diana  hid  it  with  a 
reserve  and  a  mental  strength  which  folded  it  away 
as  carefully  as  the  calyx  of  a  cactus  guards  the  deli- 
cate bloom  with  its  thorns.  But  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
Eaton  overlooked  was  still  more  apparent,  the  fact 
that  a  great  many  people  never  thought  of  Diana's 
soul  at  all,  being  quite  content  to  admire  the  long 
and  exquisite  curves  of  her  tall  figure,  the  poise  of 
her  graceful  head,  with  the  upward  wave  of  its  bright 
hair,  and  the  level  glance  of  her  clear  eyes  under  their 
thick  dark  lashes.  There  was  something  fine  about 
her  vitality,  her  freshness,  the  perfection  of  her  dress 
and  her  bearing,  which  seemed  so  harmoniously  ac- 


CALEB  TRENCH  3 

centuated  by  the  subdued  elegance  of  the  charming 
old  room.  Nature  had  specialized  her  by  the  divine 
touch  of  a  beauty  that  apparently  proclaimed  the 
possession  of  an  equally,  beautiful  spirit;  not  even 
the  flesh  and  blood  surface  seemed  always  impene- 
trable, but  rather  delicately  transparent  to  every 
spiritual  variation,  like  the  crystal  sphere  of  the 
magician.  But  Mrs.  Eaton,  pondering  on  her  young 
cousin's  personality  from  a  more  frivolous  stand- 
point, took  alarm  most  readily  at  her  independence, 
and  was  overcome  now  with  the  impropriety  of  re- 
ceiving a  village  shopkeeper  in  the  drawing-room 
after  dinner. 

"My  dear,"  she  remonstrated  again,  "hadn't  you 
better  speak  to  him  in  the  hall?" 

Diana  looked  up  from  her  paper,  slightly  bored. 
"  In  that  case,  Cousin  Jinny,  you  could  n't  hear  what 
he  said,"  she  remarked  composedly. 

Mrs.  Eaton  reddened  and  put  a  three  spot  on  her 
ace  instead  of  a  two.  "I  do  not  care  to  —  "  she 
began  and  paused,  her  utterance  abruptly  suspended 
by  the  shock  of  a  new  perception. 

For,  at  that  moment,  Kingdom-Come  announced 
Diana's  unbidden  guest  and  Mrs.  Eaton  forgot  what 
she  was  going  to  say,  forgot  her  manners  in  fact,  and 
gazed  frankly  at  the  big  man  who  came  slowly  and 
awkwardly  into  the  room.  His  appearance,  indeed, 
had  quite  a  singular  effect  upon  her.  She  wondered 
vaguely  if  she  could  be  impressed,  or  if  it  was  only 
the  result  of  the  unexpected  contact  with  the  lower 


4  CALEB  TRENCH 

class?  She  was  fond  of  speaking  of  the  Third  Estate ; 
she  had  found  the  expression  somewhere  during  her 
historical  peckings,  and  appropriated  it  at  once  as 
a  comprehensive  phrase  with  an  aristocratic  flavor, 
though  its  true  meaning  proved  a  little  elusive. 

Meanwhile,  the  unwelcome  visitor  was  confronting 
Miss  Royall  and  there  was  a  moment  of  audible 
silence.  Diana  met  his  glance  more  fully  than  she 
had  ever  been  aware  of  doing  before,  in  her  brief 
visits  to  his  shop,  and,  like  her  elderly  cousin,  she 
received  a  new  and  vital  impression,  chiefly  from  the 
depth  and  lucidity  of  his  gaze,  which  seemed  to 
possess  both  composure  and  penetration;  she  felt 
her  cheeks  flush  hotly,  yet  was  conscious  that  his  look 
was  neither  familiar  nor  offending,  but  was  rather 
the  glance  of  a  personality  as  strong  as  her  own. 

"You  wish  to  speak  to  me?"  she  said  impatiently, 
forgetting  the  fine  courtesy  that  she  usually  showed 
to  an  inferior. 

As  she  spoke,  her  father  and  Jacob  Eaton  came 
in  from  the  dining-room  and,  pausing  within  the 
wide  low  doorway,  were  silent  spectators  of  the 
scene. 

"I  wished  to  see  you,  yes,"  said  Trench  quietly, 
advancing  to  the  table  and  deliberately  putting  some 
pennies  on  it.  "When  you  bought  that  piece  of  mus- 
lin this  morning  I  gave  you  the  wrong  change.  After 
you  left  the  shop  I  found  I  owed  you  six  cents.  I 
walked  over  with  it  this  evening  as  soon  as  I  closed 
the  doors.  I  would  have  left  it  with  your  servant  at 


CALEB  TRENCH  5 

the  door,  but  he  insisted  that  I  must  see  you  in  per- 
son." He  added  this  gravely,  deliberately  allowing 
her  to  perceive  that  he  understood  his  reception. 

Diana  bit  her  lip  to  suppress  a  smile,  and  was  con- 
scious that  Jacob  Eaton  was  openly  hilarious.  She 
was  half  angry,  too,  because  Trench  had  put  her  in 
the  wrong  by  recognizing  her  discourtesy  and  treat- 
ing it  courteously.  Beyond  the  circle  of  the  lamp- 
light was  the  critical  audience  of  her  home-life,  her 
father's  stately  figure  and  white  head,  Mrs.  Eaton's 
elderly  elegance,  and  Jacob's  worldly  wisdom.  She 
looked  at  Trench  with  growing  coldness. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  "shall  I  give  you  a  re- 
ceipt?" 

He  met  her  eye  an  instant,  and  she  saw  that  he  was 
fully  cognizant  of  her  sarcasm.  "As  you  please," 
he  replied  unmoved. 

She  felt  herself  rebuked  again,  and  her  anger 
kindled  unreasonably  against  the  man  who  was 
smarting  under  her  treatment.  She  went  to  the 
table,  and  taking  a  sheet  of  folded  note-paper  wrote  a 
receipt  and  signed  it,  handing  it  to  him  with  a  slight 
haughty  inclination  of  the  head  which  was  at  once 
an  acknowledgment  and  a  dismissal. 

But  again  he  met  her  with  composure.  He  took 
the  paper,  folded  it  twice  and  put  it  in  his  pocketbook, 
then  he  bade  her  good  evening  and,  passing  Eaton 
with  scarcely  a  glance,  bowed  to  Colonel  Royall  and 
went  out,  his  awkward  figure  in  its  rough  tweed  suit 
having  made  a  singular  effect  hi  the  old-fashioned 


6  CALEB  TRENCH 

elegance  of  Colonel  RoyalPs  house,  an  effect  that 
fretted  Diana's  pride,  for  it  had  seemed  to  her  that, 
as  he  passed,  he  had  overshadowed  her  own  father 
and  dwarfed  Jacob  Eaton.  Yet,  at  the  time,  she 
thought  of  none  of  these  things.  She  pushed  the 
offending  pennies  across  the  table. 

"Cousin  Jinny,"  she  said  carelessly,  "there  are 
some  Peter  pence  for  your  dago  beggars." 

Cousin  Jinny  gathered  up  the  pennies  and  dropped 
them  thoughtfully  into  the  little  gold-linked  purse  on 
her  chatelaine.  For  years  she  had  been  contributing 
a  yearly  subsidy  to  the  ever  increasing  family  of  a 
former  gondolier,  the  unforgotten  grace  of  whose 
slender  legs  had  haunted  her  memory  for  twenty 
years,  during  which  period  she  had  been  the  recipient 
of  annual  announcements  of  twins  and  triplets,  whose 
arrivals  invariably  punctuated  peculiarly  unremuner- 
ative  years. 

"That  man,"  she  said,  referring  to  Trench  and  not 
the  gondolier,  "that  man  is  an  anarchist." 

Mrs.  Eaton  had  a  settled  conviction  that  all  unde- 
sirable persons  were  anarchists.  To  her  nebulous 
vision  innumerable  immigrant  ships  were  continually 
unloading  anarchists  in  bulk,  as  merchantmen  might 
unship  consignments  of  Sea  Island  cotton  or  Jamaica 
rum;  and  every  fresh  appearance  of  the  social  un- 
washed was  to  her  an  advent  of  an  atom  from  these 
incendiary  cargoes. 

"I  hope  you  were  careful  about  your  receipt, 
Diana,"  said  Jacob  Eaton,  stopping  to  light  a  ciga- 


CALEB  TRENCH  7 

rette  at  the  tall  candelabrum  on  the  piano.  "  How 
far  did  your  admirer  walk  to  bring  that  consignment 
of  pennies?  " 

"My  admirer?"  Diana  shot  a  scornful  glance  at 
him.  "I  call  it  an  intrusion." 

"Did  he  walk  over  from  that  little  shop  at  Cross- 
Roads?"  Mrs.  Eaton  asked.  "I  seem  to  remember 
a  shop  there." 

"  It 's  seven  miles,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  speaking 
for  the  first  time,  "  and  the  roads  are  bad.  I  think  he 
is  merely  scrupulously  honest,  Diana,"  he  added ;  "I 
was  watching  his  face." 

Diana  flushed  under  her  father's  eye.  "I  suppose 
he  is,"  she  said  reluctantly,  "  but,  pshaw  —  six  cents ! 
He  could  have  handed  it  to  a  servant." 

"Do  you  send  the  servants  there?"  Colonel  Royall 
asked  pointedly. 

"No,"  she  admitted  reluctantly,  "I  suppose  he 
rarely  sees  any  one  from  here,  but  there  was  Kingdom 
at  the  door." 

"Who  insisted  on  his  seeing  you,  you  remember," 
objected  her  father;  "the  soul  of  Kingdom-Come  is 
above  six  pennies." 

"Well,  so  is  mine !"  exclaimed  Diana  pettishly. 

"Seven  miles  in  red  clay  mud  to  see  you,"  mocked 
Jacob  Eaton,  smiling  at  her. 

"Nonsense!"  she  retorted. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  take  that  tone,  Jacob," 
warned  his  mother  a  little  nervously.  "  I  call  it  bad 
taste ;  he  could  n't  presume  to  —  to  - 


8  CALEB  TRENCH 

"To  walk  seven  miles?"  her  son  laughed.  "My 
dear  lady,  I  'd  walk  seventeen  to  see  Diana." 

"My  dear  courtier,  throw  down  your  cloak  in  the 
mud  and  let  me  walk  upon  it,"  retorted  Diana 
scornfully. 

"I  have  thrown  down,  instead,  my  heart,"  he  re- 
plied hi  a  swift  undertone. 

But  Diana  was  watching  her  father  and  apparently 
did  not  hear  him.  Colonel  Royall  had  moved  to  his 
usual  big  chair  by  the  hearth.  A  few  logs  were  kin- 
dling there,  for,  though  it  was  early  in  April,  it  was  a 
raw  chill  evening.  The  firelight  played  on  the  noble 
and  gentle  lines  of  the  colonel's  old  face,  on  his  white 
hair  and  moustache  and  in  the  mild  sweetness  of  his 
absent-minded  eyes.  His  daughter,  looking  at  him 
fondly,  thought  him  peculiarly  sad,  and  wondered  if  it 
was  because  they  were  approaching  an  anniversary  in 
that  brief  sad  married  life  which  seemed  to  have  left  a 
scar  too  deep  for  even  her  tender  touch. 

"  I  don't  mind  about  the  amount  —  six  cents  may 
be  as  sacred  to  him  as  six  dollars,"  he  was  saying. 
"The  man  has  a  primitive  face,  the  lines  are  quite  re- 
markable, and  —  "he  leaned  back  and  looked  over  at 
the  young  man  by  the  piano  —  "Jacob,  I  've  heard  of 
this  Caleb  Trench  three  times  this  week  in  politics." 

"A  village  orator?"  mocked  Eaton,  without  drop- 
ping his  air  of  nonchalant  superiority,  an  air  that 
nettled  Colonel  Royall  as  much  as  a  heat-rash. 

He  shook  his  head  impatiently.  "Ask  Mahan,"  he 
said.  "  I  don't  know,  but  twice  I  've  been  told  that 


CALEB  TRENCH  9 

Caleb  Trench  could  answer  this  or  that,  and  yester- 
day— "  he  leaned  back,  shading  his  eyes  with  his 
hand  as  he  looked  into  the  fire  —  "yesterday  —  what 
was  it?  Oh  —  "  he  stopped  abruptly,  and  a  delicate 
color,  almost  a  woman's  blush,  went  up  to  his  hair. 

"And  yesterday?"  asked  Eaton,  suddenly  alert, 
his  mocking  tone  lost,  the  latent  shrewdness  reveal- 
ing itself  through  the  thin  mask  of  his  commonplace 
good  looks. 

"Well,  I  heard  that  he  was  opposed  to  Aylett's 
methods,"  Colonel  Royall  said,  with  evident  reluct- 
ance, "and  that  he  favored  Yarnall." 

Mrs.  Eaton  started  violently  and  dropped  her  pack 
of  cards,  and  Diana  and  she  began  to  gather  them  up 
again,  Cousin  Jinny's  fingers  trembling  so  much  that 
the  girl  had  to  find  them  all. 

Jacob  stood  listening,  his  eyelids  drooping  over  his 
eyes  and  his  upper  lip  twitching  a  little  at  the  corners 
like  a  dog  who  is  puckering  his  lip  to  show  his  fangs. 
"Yarnall  is  a  candidate  for  governor,"  he  said  coolly. 

Colonel  Royall  frowned  slightly.  "  I  'd  rather  keep 
Aylett,"  he  rejoined. 

"Yarnall  had  no  strength  a  week  ago,  but  to-day 
the  back  counties  are  supporting  him,"  said  Eaton, 
"why,  heaven  knows !  Some  one  must  be  organizing 
them,  but  who?" 

Colonel  Royall  drummed  on  the  arm  of  his  chair 
with  his  fingers.  "Since  the  war  there  's  been  an  up- 
heaval," he  said  thoughtfully.  "It  was  like  a  whirl- 
pool, stirred  the  mud  up  from  the  bottom,  and  we  're 


10  CALEB  TRENCH 

getting  it  now.  No  one  can  predict  anything ;  it  is  n't 
the  day  for  an  old-fashioned  gentleman  in  politics." 

"Which  is  an  admission  that  shopkeepers  ought  to 
be  in  them,"  suggested  Jacob,  without  emotion. 

Colonel  Royall  laughed.  "Maybe  it  is,"  he  ad- 
mitted, "anyway  I'm  not  proud  of  my  own  party 
out  here.  I  'm  willing  to  stand  by  my  colors,  but  I  'm 
usually  heartily  ashamed  of  the  color  bearer.  It 's 
not  so  much  the  color  of  one's  political  coat  as  the 
lining  of  one's  political  pockets.  I  wish  I  had  Abe 
Lincoln's  simple  faith.  What  we  need  now  is  a  man 
who  is  n't  afraid  to  speak  the  truth ;  he  'd  loom  up 
like  Saul  among  the  prophets." 

"Again  let  me  suggest  the  shopkeeper  at  the  Cross- 
Roads,"  said  Jacob  Eaton. 

Colonel  Royall  smiled  sadly.  "Why  not?"  he 
said.  "Lincoln  was  a  barefoot  boy.  Why  not  Caleb 
Trench?  Since  he 's  honest  over  little  things,  he 
might  be  over  great  things." 

"Is  he  a  Democrat?"  Jacob  asked  suavely. 

"On  my  word,  I  don't  know,"  replied  Colonel 
Royall.  "  He  's  in  Judge  Hollis'  office  reading  law, 
so  William  Cheyney  told  me." 

"That  old  busybody!"  Jacob  struck  the  ashes 
from  his  cigarette  viciously. 

"Hush!"  said  Diana,  "treason!  Don't  you  say  a 
word  against  Dr.  Cheyney.  I  've  loved  him  these 
many  years." 

"A  safe  sentiment,"  said  Jacob.  "I  'm  content  to 
be  his  rival.  Alas,  if  he  were  the  only  one!" 


CALEB  TRENCH  11 

"What  did  you  say  Caleb  Trench  was  doing  in  the 
judge's  office,  pa?"  Diana  asked,  ignoring  her  cousin. 

"  Reading  law,  my  dear,"  the  colonel  answered. 

"I  thought  he  was  a  poor  shopkeeper,"  objected 
Mrs.  Eaton. 

"So  he  is,  Jinny,"  said  the  colonel;  "but  he's 
reading  law  at  night.  It 's  all  mightily  to  his  credit." 

"  He  's  altogether  too  clever,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton 
firmly;  "it  is  just  as  I  said,  he  's  an  anarchist  I" 

"Dear  me,  let 's  talk  of  some  one  else,"  Diana  pro- 
tested. "The  man  must  have  hoodooed  us;  we've 
discussed  nothing  else  since  he  left." 

"Though  lost  to  sight,  to  memory  dear,"  laughed 
Jacob,  throwing  back  his  sleek  dark  head,  and  blow- 
ing his  cigarette  smoke  into  rings  before  his  face ;  he 
was  still  leaning  against  the  piano,  and  his  attitude 
displayed  his  well-knit,  rather  slight  figure.  His 
mother,  gazing  at  him  with  an  admiration  not  unlike 
the  devotion  the  heathen  extends  to  his  favorite  deity, 
regarded  him  as  a  supreme  expression  of  the  best  in 
manhood  and  wisdom.  To  her  Jacob  was  little  short 
of  a  divinity  and  nothing  short  of  a  tyrant,  under 
whose  despotic  rule  she  had  trembled  since  he  was 
first  able  to  express  himself  in  the  cryptic  language  of 
the  cradle,  which  had  meant  with  him  an  unqualified 
and  unrestrained  shriek  for  everything  he  wanted. 
She  thought  he  showed  to  peculiar  advantage,  too, 
in  the  setting  of  the  old  room  with  its  two  centers  of 
light,  the  lamp  on  the  table  and  the  fire  on  the  hearth, 
with  the  well-worn  Turkey  rugs,  its  darkly  polished 


12  CALEB  TRENCH 

floor,  the  rare  pieces  of  Chippendale,  and  the  equally 
rare  old  paintings  on  the  walls.  There  was  a  fine, 
richly  toned  portrait  of  Colonel  Royall's  grandfather, 
who  had  been  with  Washington  at  Yorktown,  and 
there  was  a  Corot  and  a  Van  Dyke,  originals  that  had 
cost  the  colonel's  father  a  small  fortune  in  his  time. 
Best  of  all,  perhaps,  was  the  Greuze,  for  there  was 
something  hi  the  shadowy  beauty  of  the  head  which 
suggested  Diana. 

Colonel  Royall  himself  had  apparently  forgotten 
Jacob  and  his  attitude.  The  old  man  was  gazing 
absently  into  the  fire,  and  the  latent  tenderness  hi 
his  expression,  the  fine  droop  of  eyes  and  lips  seemed 
to  suggest  some  deeper  current  of  thought  which  the 
light  talk  stirred  and  brought  to  the  surface.  There 
was  a  reminiscent  sadness  in  his  glance  which  ignored 
the  present  and  warned  his  daughter  of  the  shoals. 
She  leaned  forward  and  held  her  hands  out  to  the 
blaze. 

"  If  it 's  fine  next  week,  I  'm  going  up  to  Angel 
Pass  to  see  if  the  anemones  are  not  all  in  bloom," 
she  said  abruptly. 

Colonel  Royall  rose,  and  walking  to  the  window, 
drew  aside  the  heavy  curtains  and  looked  out.  "The 
night  is  superb,"  he  said.  "Come  here,  Di,  and  see 
Orion's  golden  sword.  If  it  is  like  this,  we  will  go 
to-morrow." 

But  Diana,  going  to  him,  laid  a  gentle  hand  on  his 
arm.  "To-morrow  was  mother's  birthday,  pa,"  she 
said  softly. 


CALEB  TRENCH  13 

Mrs.  Eaton  looked  up  and  caught  her  son's  eye, 
and  turned  her  face  carefully  from  the  two  in  the  bay 
window.  "Think  of  it,"  she  murmured,  with  a  look 
of  horrified  disapproval,  "think  of  keeping  Letty's 
birthday  here!" 

But  Jacob,  glancing  at  Diana's  unconscious  back, 
signed  to  her  to  be  silent. 


II 

IT  was  the  end  of  another  day  when  Caleb 
Trench  and  his  dog,  Shot,  came  slowly  down 
the  long  white  road  from  Paradise  Ridge.  It 
is  a  shell  road,  exceeding  white  and  hard,  and  below 
it,  at  flood-tide,  the  river  meadows  lie  half  sub- 
merged; it  turns  the  corner  below  the  old  mill  and 
passes  directly  through  the  center  of  Eshcol  to  the 
city.  Behind  the  mill,  the  feathery  green  of  spring 
clouded  the  low  hills  in  a  mist  of  buds  and  leaf- 
age. The  slender  stem  of  a  silver  birch  showed 
keen  against  a  group  of  red  cedars.  A  giant  pine 
thrust  its  height  above  its  fellows,  its  top  stripped 
by  lightning  and  hung  with  a  squirrel's  nest. 

Trench  and  his  dog,  a  rough  yellow  outcast  that 
he  had  adopted,  were  approaching  the  outskirts  of 
Eshcol.  Here  and  there  was  a  farmhouse,  but  the 
wayside  was  lonely,  and  he  heard  only  the  crows  in 
the  tree-tops.  It  was  past  five  o'clock  and  the  air  was 
sweet.  He  smelt  the  freshly  turned  earth  hi  the  fields 
where  the  robins  were  hunting  for  grubs.  Beyond  the 
river  the  woods  were  drifted  white  with  wild  cucum- 
ber. Yonder,  hi  the  corner  of  a  gray  old  fence, 
huddled  some  of  Aaron  Todd's  sheep.  The  keen 
atmosphere  was  mellowing  at  the  far  horizon  to  molten 


CALEB  TRENCH  15 

gold ;  across  it  a  drifting  flight  of  swallows  was  sharply 
etched,  an  eddying  maelstrom  of  graceful  wings. 

In  the  middle  of  the  road  Caleb  Trench  was  sud- 
denly aware  of  a  small  figure,  which  might  have  been 
three  years  old,  chubby  and  apparently  sexless,  for  it 
was  clad  in  a  girl's  petticoats  and  a  boy's  jacket,  its 
face  round  and  smeared  with  jelly. 

"Sammy,"  said  Trench  kindly,  "how  did  you  get 
here?" 

"Penny,"  said  Sammy,  "wants  penny!" 

To  Sammy  the  tall  man  with  the  homely  face  and 
clear  gray  eyes  was  a  mine  of  pennies  and  consequently 
of  illicit  candy ;  the  soul  of  Sammy  was  greedy  as  well 
as  his  stomach.  Trench  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket 
and  produced  five  pennies.  Sammy's  duty  little  fist 
closed  on  them  with  the  grip  of  the  nascent  financier. 

"Sammy  tired,"  he  sobbed,  "wants  go  to  candy 
man's!" 

Trench  stooped  good-naturedly  and  lifted  the 
bundle  of  indescribable  garments ;  he  had  carried  it 
before,  and  the  candy  man  was  only  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away.  He  was  raising  the  child  to  his  shoulder 
when  the  growth  of  pokeberry  bushes  at  the  roadside 
shook  and  a  woman  darted  out  from  behind  it.  She 
was  scarcely  more  than  a  girl  and  pitifully  thin  and 
wan.  Her  garments,  too,  were  sexless;  she  wore  a 
girl's  short  skirt  and  a  man's  waistcoat ;  a  man's  soft 
felt  hat  rested  on  a  tangled  mass  of  hair,  —  the  coarse 
and  abundant  hair  of  peasant  ancestry.  She  ran  up 
to  him  and  snatched  the  child  out  of  his  arms. 


16  CALEB  TRENCH 

"You  shan't  have  him!"  she  cried  passionately; 
"you  shan't  touch  him  —  he's  mine!" 

Sammy  screamed  dismally,  clutching  his  pennies. 

"Never  mind,  Jean,"  said  Trench  quietly.  "I 
know  he  's  yours." 

"He's  mine!"  She  was  stamping  her  foot  in 
passion,  her  thin  face  crimson,  the  veins  standing 
out  on  her  forehead.  "He's  mine  —  you  may  try 
ter  get  him,  but  you  won't  —  you  won't  —  you 
won't!"  she  screamed. 

The  child  was  frightened  now,  and  clasped  both 
arms  around  her  neck,  screaming  too. 

"I  was  only  offering  to  carry  him  to  the  candy 
man's,  Jean,"  Trench  said;  "don't  get  so  excited. 
I  know  the  child  is  yours." 

"He's  mine!"  she  cried  again,  "mine!  That's 
my  shame,  they  call  it,  and  preach  at  me,  and  try 
ter  take  him  away.  They  want  'er  steal  him,  but 
they  shan't ;  they  shan't  touch  him  any  more  'n  you 
shall !  He  's  mine ;  God  gave  him  ter  me,  and  I  '11 
keep  him.  You  can  kill  me,  but  you  shan't  have 
him  noways!"  She  was  quivering  from  head  to 
foot,  her  wild  eyes  flashing,  her  face  white  now  with 
the  frenzy  that  swept  away  every  other  thought. 

"Hush,"  said  Trench  sternly,  "no  one  wants  to 
steal  the  child,  Jean ;  it 's  only  your  fancy.  Be 
quiet." 

He  spoke  with  such  force  that  the  girl  fell  back, 
leaning  against  the  fence,  holding  the  sobbing  child 
tight,  her  eyes  devouring  the  man's  strong,  clean- 


CALEB  TRENCH  17 

featured  face.  Her  clouded  mind  was  searching  for 
memories.  She  had  lost  her  wits  when  Sammy  was 
born  without  a  father  to  claim  him.  Trench  still 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  his  figure  was  at 
once  striking  and  homely.  He  was  above  the  average 
height,  big-boned  and  lean,  the  fineness  of  his  head 
and  the  power  of  his  face  not  less  notable  because  of 
a  certain  awkwardness  that,  at  first,  disguised  the 
real  power  of  the  man,  a  power  so  vital  that  it  grew 
upon  you  until  his  personality  seemed  to  stand  out 
in  high  relief  against  the  commonplace  level  of  human- 
ity. He  had  the  force  and  vitality  of  a  primitive  man. 

The  girl  crouched  against  the  fence,  and  the  two 
looked  at  each  other.  Suddenly  she  put  the  child 
down  and,  coming  cautiously  nearer,  pointed  with 
one  hand,  the  other  clenched  against  her  flat  chest. 

"I  know  you,"  she  whispered,  in  a  strange  pene- 
trating voice,  "I  know  you  at  last  —  you  're  him" 

Trench  regarded  her  a  moment  in  speechless  amaze- 
ment, then  the  full  significance  of  her  words  was 
borne  in  upon  him  by  the  wild  rage  in  her  eyes.  He 
knew  she  was  half  crazed  and  saw  his  peril  if  this 
belief  became  fixed  hi  her  mind.  Often  as  he  had  seen 
her  she  had  never  suggested  such  a  delusion  as  was 
then  taking  root  in  her  demented  brain. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  he  said  gently,  slowly,  per- 
suasively, trying  to  impress  her,  as  he  might  a  child ; 
"you  have  forgotten;  I  only  came  to  Eshcol  four 
years  ago.  You  have  not  known  me  two  years,  Jean ; 
you  are  thinking  of  some  one  else." 

2 


18  CALEB  TRENCH 

A  look  of  cunning  succeeded  the  fury  in  her  eyes, 
as  she  peered  at  him.  "It 's  like  you  ter  say  it,"  she 
cried  triumphantly  at  last,  "it's  like  you  ter  hide. 
You  ;re  afeard,  you  were  always  afeard  —  coward, 
coward ! " 

Trench  laid  his  powerful  hand  on  her  shoulder 
and  almost  shook  her.  "Be  still,"  he  said  authori- 
tatively, "it  is  false.  You  know  it's  false.  I  am 
not  he." 

She  wrenched  away  from  him,  laughing  and  crying 
together.  "JTis  him,"  she  repeated;  "I  know  him 
by  this  I"  and  she  suddenly  snatched  at  the  plain 
signet  ring  that  he  wore  on  his  left  hand. 

Trench  drew  his  hand  away  in  anger,  his  patience 
exhausted.  "Jean,"  he  said  harshly,  "you  're  mad." 

"No!"  she  shook  her  head,  still  pointing  at  him, 
"no  —  it  is  you!" 

She  was  pointing,  her  wild  young  face  rigid,  as  a 
carriage  came  toward  them.  Trench  looked  up  and 
met  the  calm  gaze  of  Colonel  Royall  and  Diana, 
who  occupied  the  back  seat.  In  front,  beside  the 
negro  coachman,  Jacob  Eaton  leaned  forward  and 
stared  rudely  at  the  group  in  the  dust. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Jacob?"  the  old  man  asked, 
as  the  carriage  passed. 

The  young  one  laughed.  "The  old  story,  I  reckon, 
Colonel,"  he  said  affably,  "begging  Diana's  pardon." 

"  You  need  n't  beg  my  pardon.  It  was  Jean  Bart- 
lett,  pa,"  she  added,  blushing  suddenly. 

"  Poor  girl ! "    The  colonel  touched  his  lips  thought- 


CALEB  TRENCH  19 

fully.  "By  gad,  I  wish  I  knew  who  was  the  father 
of  her  child  —  I  'd  make  him  keep  her  from  starving." 

"You  do  that,  pa,"  said  Diana  quietly. 

"  I  reckon  the  father 's  there  now,"  said  Jacob 
Eaton,  with  a  slight  sneer. 

Diana  flashed  a  look  at  the  back  of  his  head  which 
ought  to  have  scorched  it.  "  It  is  only  the  shopkeeper 
at  Eshcol,"  she  said  haughtily. 

"Are  shopkeepers  immune,  Diana?"  asked  Jacob 
Eaton,  chuckling. 

"I  am  immune  from  such  conversations,"  replied 
Diana  superbly. 

Jacob  apologized. 

Meanwhile,  the  group  by  the  wayside  had  drawn 
nearer  together.  "I  will  take  your  child  home,  for 
you  are  tired,"  said  Trench  sternly,  "but  I  tell  you 
that  I  do  not  know  your  story  and  you  don't  know 
me.  If  you  accuse  me  of  being  that  child's  father, 
you  are  telling  a  falsehood.  Do  you  understand 
what  a  falsehood  is,  Jean?" 

His  face  was  so  stern  that  the  girl  cowered. 

"No,"  she  whimpered,  "I  —  I  won't  tell,  I  swore 
it,  I  won't  tell  his  name." 

"Neither  will  you  take  mine  in  vain,"  said  Caleb 
Trench,  and  he  lifted  the  sobbing  Sammy. 

Cowed,  Jean  followed,  and  the  strange  procession 
trailed  down  the  white  road.  Overhead  the  tall 
hickories  were  in  flower.  The  carriage  of  Colonel 
Royall  had  cast  dust  on  Trench's  gray  tweed  suit 
and  it  had  powdered  Shot's  rough  hair.  The  dog 


20  CALEB  TRENCH 

trailed  jealously  at  his  heels,  not  giving  precedence 
to  Jean  Bartlett.  The  girl  walked  droopingly,  and 
now  that  the  fire  of  conviction  had  died  out  of  her 
face,  it  was  shrunken  again,  like  a  thin  paper  mask 
from  behind  which  there  had  flashed,  for  a  moment, 
a  Hallowe'en  candle.  They  began  to  pass  people. 
Aaron  Todd,  stout  farmer  and  lumberman,  rode  by  in 
his  wagon  and  nodded  to  Trench,  staring  at  the  child. 
Jean  he  knew.  Then  came  two  more  farmers,  and 
later  a  backwoodsman,  who  greeted  Trench  as  he 
galloped  past  on  his  lean,  mud-bespattered  horse. 
Then  two  women  passed  on  the  farther  side.  They 
spoke  to  Trench  timidly,  for  he  was  a  reserved  man 
and  they  did  not  know  him  well,  but  they  drew 
away  their  skirts  from  Jean,  who  was  the  Shameful 
Thing  at  Paradise  Ridge. 

Strange  thoughts  beset  Caleb;  suddenly  the  girl's 
accusation  went  home;  suppose  he  had  been  the 
father  of  this  child  on  his  arm,  —  would  they  pass 
him  and  speak,  and  pass  her  with  skirts  drawn 
aside?  God  knew.  He  thought  it  only  too  probable, 
knowing  men  —  and  women.  He  was  a  just  man  on 
'occasions,  but  at  heart  a  passionate  one.  Inwardly 
he  stormed,  outwardly  he  was  calm.  The  dog  trailed 
behind  him ;  so  did  the  girl,  a  broken  thing,  who  had 
just  sense  enough  to  feel  the  women's  eyes.  They 
passed  more  people.  Again  Caleb  answered  saluta- 
tions, again  he  heard  the  girl  whimper  as  if  she 
shrank  from  a  blow. 

At  her  own  door,  which  was  her  grandmother's, 


CALEB  TRENCH  21 

he  set  down  the  child.  A  shrill  voice  began  screaming. 
"Is  the  hussy  there?  Come  in  with  you,  you  thing 
of  shame;  what  d'ye  walk  in  the  road  for?  The 
Ridge  is  fair  screamin'  with  your  disgrace,  you 
trollop.  Jean,  Jean!" 

The  old  woman  was  childish,  but  she  knew  the  tale 
and  retained  it.  There  was  also  a  half-foolish  brother ; 
it  seemed  as  if,  hi  the  making  of  this  luckless  family, 
the  usual  three  pints  of  wits  had  been  spilled  to  a 
half  pint  and  then  diluted  to  go  around.  Zeb  Bartlett 
came  to  the  door,  shambling  and  dirty,  but  grinning 
at  the  sight  of  Trench.  Sammy  ran  from  him  shriek- 
ing, for  he  feared  the  theft  of  his  spoils.  Zeb  towered 
in  righteous  wrath  as  Jean  appeared. 

"Get  in,  Shameless !"  he  commanded. 

The  girl  shrank  past  him  sobbing. 

"My  God!"  said  Caleb  Trench  and  turned  away. 

He  did  not  heed  an  appeal  for  help  to  get  work  that 
Zeb  shouted  after  him;  he  was,  for  the  moment, 
deaf.  Before  him  lay  the  broad  fields  and  sloping 
hills,  the  beauty  of  earth  and  sky,  drenched  in  sun- 
set; behind  lay  a  girl's  purgatory.  He  forgot  his 
anger  at  her  senseless  accusation,  he  forgot  the  peril 
of  it,  in  his  wrath;  he  hated  injustice.  Only  the 
yellow  dog  followed  at  his  heels  and  his  heart  was  full 
of  strange  thoughts.  Five  years  of  isolation  and  in- 
justice must  tell  in  a  man's  life,  and  the  purposes 
born  there  in  solitude  are  grim.  The  great  trial  that 
was  to  divide  Eshcol  against  itself  was  growing, 
growing  out  of  the  sweet  spring  twilight,  growing 


22  CALEB  TRENCH 

beyond  the  song  of  the  thrush  and  the  cheep  of  the 
woodpecker,  growing  in  the  heart  of  a  man. 

Meanwhile,  Jacob  Eaton  had  called  Trench  the 
father  of  Jean  Bartlett's  child,  and  old  Scipio,  who 
drove  the  colonel's  bays,  heard  it  and  told  it  to  King- 
dom-Come Carter,  who  had  been  butler  at  Broad 
Acres  for  fifty  years,  and  had  carried  Diana  in  his 
arms  when  she  was  two  weeks  old.  Kingdom-Come 
told  it  to  Aunt  Charity  and  Uncle  Juniper,  coal- 
black  negroes  of  the  cabin,  and  thus  by  kitchens 
and  alley-doors  the  story  traveled,  as  a  needle  will 
travel  through  the  body  and  work  its  way  to  the 
surface.  The  reputation  of  a  man  is  but  the  breath 
on  a  servant's  lips,  as  man  himself  is  compared  to 
grass  and  the  flower  of  it. 


Ill 


TRENCH  walked  slowly  homeward.  Colonel 
Royall's  place,  the  largest  of  its  kind  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Eshcol,  was  on  a  hill  above 
the  town,  and  Trench's  nearest  path  lay  not  by  the 
highroad  but  past  the  Colonel's  gates  along  a  lovely 
trail  that  led  through  a  growth  of  stunted  cedars 
out  into  the  open  ground  above  the  river,  and 
thence  by  a  solitary  and  wooded  path  known  some- 
times as  the  Trail  of  the  Cedar-bird,  because  those 
little  birds  haunted  it  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year. 
It  was  now  broad  moonlight,  and  Trench,  who  was 
peculiarly  susceptible  to  the  sights  and  sounds  of 
Nature,  was  aware  of  the  beauty  of  every  tremulous 
shadow.  The  chill  spring  air  was  sweet  with  the  aro- 
matic perfume  of  pines  and  cedars,  and,  as  he  turned 
the  shoulder  of  the  hill,  his  eye  swept  the  new  plowed 
fields.  He  could  smell  the  grape-vines  that  were 
blooming  in  masses  by  the  wayside,  promising  a  full 
harvest  of  those  great  purple  grapes  that  had  given 
the  settlement  its  name.  Below  him  the  river  forked, 
and  in  its  elbow  nestled  the  center  of  the  village,  the 
church  at  the  Cross-Roads,  and  the  little  red  school- 
house  where  Peter  Mahan  had  fought  Jacob  Eaton 
and  whipped  him  at  the  age  of  twelve,  long  before 


24  CALEB  TRENCH 

Caleb  Trench  had  even  heard  of  Eshcol.  To  the  left 
was  the  Friends'  Meeting-House,  Judge  Hollis'  home, 
and  the  lane  which  led  to  Trench's  shop  and  office. 
Beyond,  he  discerned  the  little  old  white  house  where 
Dr.  William  Cheyney  lived,  but  that  was  where  Eshcol 
lapped  over  on  to  Little  Paradise,  for  they  had  bridged 
the  creek  ten  years  before.  Across  the  river  lay  the 
city,  big  and  smoky  and  busy,  its  spires  rising  above 
its  shining  roofs. 

A  light  mist,  diaphanous  and  shimmering,  floated 
over  the  lowlands  by  the  water,  and  above  it  the  dark 
green  of  the  young  foliage  and  the  lovely  slope  of 
clovered  fields  seemed  to  assume  a  new  and  beautiful 
significance,  to  suggest  mysterious  unfoldings,  buds 
and  blossoming  time,  the  gathered  promise  of  a  hun- 
dred springs,  that  mysterious  awakening  of  life  which 
stirred  the  lonely  man's  imagination  with  a  thrill  of 
pleasure  as  poignant  as  it  was  unusual.  To  him  these 
lonely  walks  at  sunrise  and  moonrise  had  been  his 
greatest  solace,  and  there  was  a  companionship  in 
the  slight  hushed  sounds  of  woodland  life  which  ap- 
proached his  inner  consciousness  more  nearly  than  the 
alien  existence  that  circumstances  had  forced  upon 
him.  He  was  a  stranger  in  almost  a  strange  land. 
He  had  been  born  and  brought  up  in  Philadelphia, 
and  his  family  belonged  to  the  Society  of  Friends. 
Personally,  Caleb  Trench  was  not  orthodox,  but  the 
bias  of  his  early  training  held,  and  the  poverty  that 
had  followed  his  father's  business  failure  had  tended 
to  increase  the  simplicity  of  the  boy's  narrowed  life. 


CALEB  TRENCH  25 

When  death  had  intervened  and  taken  first  his  father, 
whom  business  ruin  had  broken,  and  then  his  mother 
and  sister,  Caleb  had  severed  the  last  tie  that  bound 
him  to  the  East  and  started  West  to  make  his  for- 
tune, with  the  boundless  confidence  of  youth  that  he 
would  succeed.  The  lodestar  that  has  drawn  so  many 
on  that  fantastic  quest  had  drawn  him,  and  failing  in 
first  one  venture  and  then  another,  because  it  is 
easier  to  buy  experience  than  to  accumulate  wealth, 
he  had  come  at  last  to  the  little  shop  at  Eshcol  and 
the  study  of  law.  Wherein  lay  the  touchstone  of  his 
life,  though  he  knew  it  not. 

Pausing  now,  a  moment,  to  view  his  favorite  scene, 
the  lowlands  by  the  river  under  their  silvery  mantle 
of  vapor,  he  turned  and  took  the  sharp  descent  from 
the  bluff  to  the  old  turnpike.  A  cherry  tree  in  full 
bloom  stood  like  a  ghost  at  the  corner  of  Judge  Hollis' 
orchard,  and  the  long  lane  was  white  with  the  falling 
petals.  A  light  shone  warmly  through  the  crimson 
curtains  of  Judge  Hollis'  library  window,  and  Caleb 
took  the  familiar  path  to  the  side  door.  The  latch 
was  usually  down,  but  to-night  he  had  to  knock,  and 
the  judge's  sister,  Miss  Sarah,  opened  the  door. 

"Is  that  you,  Caleb?"  she  said,  in  her  high  thin 
voice;  "wipe  your  feet.  I  wish  men  folks  were  all 
made  like  cherubs  anyway,  then  there  wouldn't  be 
all  this  mud  tracked  over  my  carpets." 

"We  might  moult  our  wing  feathers,  Miss  Sarah," 
Caleb  ventured  unsmilingly,  while  he  obeyed  his  in- 
structions to  the  letter. 


26  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  'd  as  lief  have  feathers  as  pipe  ashes,"  she  re- 
torted; "in  fact  I  'd  rather  —  I  could  make  pillows 
of  'em." 

"You  can't  complain  of  my  pipe  ashes,  Miss  Sarah," 
Trench  said,  a  slow  laugh  dawning  in  the  depths  of 
his  gray  eyes.  "Is  the  judge  at  home?" 

"Can't  you  smell  tobacco  smoke?"  she  replied, 
moving  in  front  of  him  across  the  entry,  her  tall 
figure,  in  its  plain  green  poplin  with  the  turn-down 
collar  of  Irish  lace,  recalling  to  Trench,  in  the  most 
extreme  of  contrasts,  the  other  tall  figure  in  its  beau- 
tiful evening  dress,  that  had  stood  so  haughtily  in 
Colonel  RoyalPs  drawing-room,  seeming  to  him  the 
most  perfect  expression  of  beauty  and  charming  grace 
that  he  had  ever  seen,  though  he  still  felt  the  sting  of 
Diana's  glance  and  the  sarcasm  of  her  receipt.  He 
had  carried  the  money  back  in  good  faith,  for  his 
Quaker  training  made  six  cents  as  significant  to  him 
as  six  hundred  cents,  but,  under  all  his  strong  and 
apparently  unmoved  exterior,  there  was  a  quick  per- 
ception of  the  attitude  of  others  toward  his  views  and 
toward  himself.  In  the  strength  of  his  own  virile 
character  he  had  not  fully  realized  where  he  stood  in 
her  eyes,  but  after  that  night  he  did  not  forget  it. 
Meanwhile,  Miss  Sarah  had  opened  the  study  door. 

"Judge,"  she  called  to  her  brother,  "Caleb's 
here." 

There  was  no  response,  and  she  went  away,  leaving 
Caleb  to  find  his  own  welcome.  He  went  in  and  closed 
the  door.  Judge  Hollis  was  sitting  at  his  desk  smok- 


CALEB  TRENCH  27 

ing  a  long  black  pipe  and  writing  carefully  in  a  hand 
as  fine  and  accurate  as  a  steel  engraving. 

The  room  was  low,  papered  with  old-fashioned 
bandbox  paper  and  filled  with  bookcases  with  glass 
doors,  every  one  of  which  hung  open.  In  the  corner 
was  a  life-sized  bust  of  Daniel  Webster.  As  Caleb 
entered,  the  judge  swung  around  hi  his  revolving 
chair  and  eyed  him  over  his  spectacles.  He  was  a 
big  man  with  a  large  head  covered  with  abundant 
white  hair,  a  clean-shaven  face  with  a  huge  nose, 
shaped  like  a  hawk's  and  placed  high  between  the 
deep-set  eyes. 

"Trench,"  he  said  abruptly,  "if  they  elect  Aylett 
they  '11  have  to  stuff  the  ballot-boxes.  What  '11  you 
do  then?" 

"Take  the  stuffing  out  of  them,  Judge,"  Trench 
replied  promptly  and  decisively. 

The  judge  looked  at  him,  a  grim  smile  curling  the 
corners  of  his  large  mouth.  "They  '11  tar  and  feather 
you,"  he  said. 

Trench  sat  down  and  took  up  a  calf-bound  volume. 
"  I  'm  enough  of  a  Quaker  still  to  speak  out  in  meet- 
ing," he  observed. 

"The  only  thing  I  know  about  Quakers  makes  'em 
seem  like  Unitarians,"  said  the  judge,  "and  a  Uni- 
tarian is  a  kind  of  stylish  Jew.  What  have  you 
been  doing  with  the  backwoodsmen,  Caleb?  Mahan 
tells  me  they  're  organized  —  "  the  judge  smiled  out- 
right now  —  "I  don't  believe  it." 

Caleb  Trench  smiled  too.     "I  don't  know  much 


28  CALEB  TRENCH 

about  organizing,  Judge,"  he  said  simply.  "When 
men  come  into  my  shop  and  ask  questions  I  answer 
them ;  that  'a  all  there  is  about  it." 

"We  '11  have  to  shut  up  that  shop,  I  reckon,"  the 
judge  said,  "  but  then  you  '11  open  your  darned  law 
office  and  give  'em  sedition  by  the  brief  instead  of  by 
the  yard.  I  deserve  hanging  for  letting  you  read 
law  here.  I  've  been  a  Democrat  for  seventy  years, 
and  you  're  a  black  Republican." 

Trench  closed  the  law  book  on  his  finger.  "  Judge," 
he  said  slowly,  "  I  'm  a  man  of  my  own  convictions. 
My  father  would  n't  stand  for  anything  I  do,  yet  he 
was  the  best  man  I  ever  knew,  and  I  'd  like  to  be  true 
to  him.  It  is  n't  in  me  to  follow  in  the  beaten  track, 
that 's  all." 

The  judge  twinkled.  "You're  an  iconoclast,"  he 
said,  "and  so  's  Sarah,  yet  women,  as  a  rule,  are  safe 
conservatives.  They  '11  hang  on  to  an  old  idea  as 
close  as  a  hen  to  a  nest-egg.  Perhaps  I  'm  the  same. 
Anyway  I  can't  stand  for  your  ways;  I  wash  my 
hands  of  it  all.  I  wish  they  'd  drop  Yarnall ;  his 
nomination  means  blood  on  the  face  of  the  moon. 
There  's  the  feud  with  the  Batons,  and  I  would  n't 
trust  Jacob  Eaton  to  forget  it,  not  by  a  darned  sight ; 
he 's  too  pesky  cold-blooded,  —  the  kind  of  man 
that  holds  venom  as  long  as  a  rattler." 

"Then,  if  you  don't  like  Yarnall,  why  not  vote  for 
Mahan?"  Trench  was  beginning  to  enjoy  himself. 
He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  his  head  against  a 
shelf  of  the  bookcase,  the  light  from  the  judge's 


CALEB  TRENCH  29 

lamp  falling  full  on  his  remarkable  face,  clean-shaven 
like  his  host's,  on  the  strong  line  of  the  jaw,  and  on 
the  mouth  that  had  the  faculty  of  locking  itself  in 
granite  lines. 

"Because,  damn  it,  I 'm  a  Democrat!"  said  the 
old  man  angrily. 

"By  conviction  or  habit?" 

The  judge  scowled.    "By  conviction  first,  sir,  and 
by  habit  last,  and  for  good  and  all,  anyway ! " 

Caleb  Trench  laughed  softly.  "Judge,"  he  said, 
"what  of  Jacob  Eaton?" 

The  judge  shot  a  quick  look  from  under  scowling 
brows.  "Seen  him  lately?" 

The  younger  man  thought  a  moment.  "Yes, 
last  night.  I  owed  Miss  Royall  some  change  and 
took  it  to  the  house.  Eaton  was  there." 

"How  much  change?"   asked  Hollis  abruptly. 

"Six  cents." 

"What!" 

Trench  reddened.  "Six  cents,"  he  repeated 
doggedly. 

"  And  you  took  it  up  there  and  paid  Diana  Royall  ?  " 

"Certainly,  Judge,  in  the  drawing-room;  she  gave 
me  a  receipt." 

The  judge  exploded  with  laughter;  he  roared  and 
slapped  his  knee. 

Caleb  Trench  bore  it  well,  but  the  color  of  his  eyes, 
which  was  blue-gray,  became  more  gray  than  blue. 
"  I  owed  it,"  he  said. 

At  which  the  judge  laughed  more.   Then  he  dropped 


30  CALEB  TRENCH 

back  into  his  old  attitude  and  wiped  his  eyes.  "  You 
walked  up  there  —  seven  miles  —  to  see  Diana?" 

Trench  stiffened.  "No,"  he  said  flatly,  "I  did  not; 
I  Ve  got  more  sense.  I  know  perfectly  how  Miss 
Royall  estimates  a  shopkeeper,"  he  added,  with  a 
bitterness  which  he  could  not  suppress. 

The  judge  looked  at  him  curiously.  "How  do  you 
know?"  he  asked. 

Trench  returned  his  look  without  a  word,  and  Judge 
Hollis  colored;  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  the 
young  man  had  rebuked  him  and  let  him  know  that 
he  could  not  trespass  on  forbidden  ground.  The 
old  lawyer  fingered  his  brief  an  instant  in  annoyed 
silence,  then  he  spoke  of  something  else. 

"I  '11  tell  you  about  the  feud,"  he  said  irrelevantly; 
"it  began  seventy  years  ago  over  a  piece  of  ground 
that  lay  between  the  two  properties;  Christopher 
Yarnall  claimed  it  and  so  did  Jacob  Eaton,  this  man's 
grandfather.  There  was  a  fence  war  for  years,  then 
Yarnall  won.  Winfield  Mahan,  Peter's  grandfather, 
won  by  a  fifteen-hour  speech.  They  said  the  jury- 
men all  fell  asleep  in  the  box  and  voted  in  a  night- 
mare. Anyway  he  got  it,  and  Mahan  got  more  money 
for  the  case  than  the  whole  place  was  worth.  That 
was  the  beginning.  Chris  Yarnall's  son  married  a 
pretty  girl  from  Lexington,  and  she  fell  in  love  with 
Eaton,  Jacob's  father.  There  was  a  kind  of  fatality 
about  the  way  those  two  families  got  mixed  up. 
Everybody  saw  how  things  were  going  except  Jinny 
Eaton,  his  wife.  She  was  playing  belle  at  Memphis, 


CALEB  TRENCH  31 

and  Jacob  was  about  a  year  old.  Eaton  tried  to  run 
away  with  Mrs.  Yarnall,  that 's  the  size  of  it,  and 
Yarnall  shot  him.  There  was  a  big  trial  and  the 
Batons  claimed  that  Eaton  was  innocent.  Young 
Mrs.  Yarnall  swore  he  was,  and  fainted  on  the  stand, 
but  the  Yarnalls  knew  he  was  n't  innocent,  and  they 
got  Yarnall  off.  He  would  n't  live  with  his  wife  after 
that ;  there  was  a  divorce  and  he  married  a  Miss  Sarah 
Garnett.  This  Garnett  Yarnall,  they  want  to  run,  is 
his  son.  Of  course  the  whole  Eaton  clan  hate  the 
Yarnalls  like  the  devil,  and  Jacob  hates  Garnett 
worse  than  that,  because  he  's  never  been  able  to 
run  him.  Jacob  likes  to  run  things  in  a  groove ;  he  's 
a  smart  fellow,  is  Jacob." 

Trench  said  nothing ;  he  had  filled  his  pipe  and  sat 
smoking,  the  law  book  closed  on  his  finger.  The 
judge  swung  back  in  his  chair  and  clasped  his  hands 
behind  his  head. 

"  Of  course  he  '11  marry  Diana  Royall.  They  're 
fourth  cousins;  Jinny  is  the  colonel's  second  cousin, 
on  his  mother's  side ;  there  's  a  good  deal  of  money 
in  the  family,  and  I  reckon  they  want  to  keep  it  there. 
Anyway,  Jacob 's  set  his  mind  —  I  'm  not  saying  his 
heart,  for  I  don't  know  that  he  's  got  one  —  on  get- 
ting Diana ;  that 's  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  a  man's 
face,  but  Diana  —  well,  there 's  a  proposition  for 
you !"  and  the  judge  chuckled. 

Trench  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  very  care- 
fully into  a  little  cracked  china  plate  that  Miss  Sarah 
provided  for  the  judge,  and  the  judge  never  used. 


32  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Eaton  is  interested  in  some  speculating  schemes, 
is  n't  he?"  he  asked,  without  referring  to  Diana. 

The  judge  nodded.  "He's  president  of  a  com- 
pany developing  some  lands  in  Oklahoma,  and  he  's 
connected  in  Wall  Street ;  Jacob  's  a  smart  fellow." 

"Colonel  Royall  is  interested,  too,  I  suppose," 
Trench  suggested  tentatively. 

"Yep,  got  pretty  much  all  his  spare  cash  in,  I 
reckon ;  the  colonel  loves  to  speculate.  It 's  in  the 
blood,  one  way  or  another.  His  grandfather  kept 
the  finest  race-horses  in  the  South,  and  his  father  lost 
a  small  fortune  on  them.  Of  course  David  has  to 
dip  in,  but  he  's  never  been  much  for  horses.  Besides, 
he  had  a  blow ;  his  wife  —  "  The  judge  stopped 
abruptly  and  looked  up. 

The  door  of  the  study  had  been  opening  softly  and 
closing  again  for  the  last  few  minutes.  As  he  paused 
it  opened  wider,  and  a  woolly  head  came  in  cautiously. 

"What  is  it,  Juniper?"  he  asked  impatiently. 
"Don't  keep  a  two-inch  draught  on  my  back;  come 
in  or  stay  out." 

The  old  negro  opened  the  door  wide  enough  to 
squeeze  his  lean  body  through  and  closed  it  behind 
him. 

"Evenin',  Jedge,"  he  said;  "evenin',  Marse 
Trench." 

"  What  do  you  want  now?"  demanded  the  judge, 
taking  off  his  spectacles  to  polish  them.  There  was 
the  ghost  of  a  smile  about  his  grim  lips. 

Juniper  turned  his  hat  around  slowly  and  looked 


CALEB  TRENCH  33 

into  the  crown ;  it  was  a  battered  old  gray  felt  and  he 
saw  the  pattern  of  the  carpet  through  a  hole  hi  it. 
"  I  've  laid  off  ter  ask  yo'  how  much  it  wud  cost  ter 
git  er  divorce,  suh?" 

Judge  Hollis  put  on  his  spectacles  and  looked  at 
him  thoughtfully.  "Depends  on  the  circumstances, 
Juniper,"  he  replied.  "I  suppose  Aunt  Charity  is 
tired  of  you  at  last?" 

"No,  suh,  she  ain't,  but  I  ez,"  said  Juniper  indig- 
nantly; "she  done  b'haved  so  onerary  dat  I'se  sho 
gwine  ter  be  divorced,  I  ez,  ef  it  don'  cost  too  much," 
he  added  dolefully. 

The  judge's  eyes  twinkled.  "You  }11  have  to  pay 
her  alimony,"  he  said. 

"What 's  dat?"  Juniper  demanded  with  anxiety. 

"So  much  a  week  out  of  your  wages,"  explained 
Trench,  catching  the  judge's  eye. 

"I  ain't  gwine  ter  do  it,  noways,"  said  Juniper 
firmly. 

"Don't  you  have  to  support  her  now?"  Trench 
asked  mildly. 

Juniper  looked  up  at  the  ceiling  thoughtfully. 
"I  'se  allus  been  proud  ob  de  way  she  done  washin', 
suh,"  he  said;  "she  sho  do  mek  money  dat  away, 
an'  I  ain't  gwine  ter  complain  ob  noffin  but  de  way 
she  behaved  'bout  Miss  Eaton's  silver  teapot,  dat 
Miss  Jinny  done  gib  me  fo'  a  birthday  present." 

"Silver  teapot?"  Caleb  Trench  looked  question- 
ingly  at  the  judge. 

"  Juniper  had  a  birthday,"  Judge  Hollis  explained 

3 


34  CALEB  TRENCH 

grimly,  "and  Aunt  Charity  gave  him  a  birthday 
party.  I  reckon  we  all  sent  Juniper  something,  but 
Jinny  Eaton  gave  him  a  silver-plated  teapot,  and 
there  have  been  squalls  ever  since.  Who  's  got  that 
teapot  now,  Juniper?" 

"She  hab,"  said  Juniper  indignantly.  "I  locked 
dat  teapot  in  my  trunk,  Judge,  an'  I  done  tole  her 
dat  she  could  n't  hab  it  when  I  died  bekase  she  'd 
gib  it  ter  dat  mean  trash  son  ob  hers,  Lysander,  an' 
when  I  wus  out  she  done  got  a  locksmith  ter  gib  her 
a  key  ter  fit  dat  trunk,  an'  she  got  dat  teapot,  an' 
she  's  gwine  ter  gib  tea  ter  Deacon  Plato  Eaton,  an' 
he  hab  er  wife  already,  not  sayin'  noffin  'bout  con- 
cubines. I  ain't  gwine  ter  hab  him  drinkin'  no  tea 
outen  dat  silver  teapot  dat  Miss  Jinny  done  gib  me. 
I  'se  gwine  ter  git  divorcement  an'  I  wants  dat 
teapot." 

"Why  don't  you  settle  it  with  Uncle  Plato?" 
asked  the  judge.  "Assault  and  battery  is  cheaper 
than  divorce." 

Juniper  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head  thoughtfully. 
"De  fact  ez,  Jedge,"  he  said,  "I  ain't  sho  dat  I'se 
gwine  ter  whip  him." 

"Juniper,"  said  the  judge,  "you  tell  Uncle  Plato 
from  me  that  if  he  drinks  tea  out  of  that  teapot 
you  '11  sue  him  for  ten  thousand  dollars  damages  for 
alienating  your  wife's  affections." 

Juniper  looked  at  him  admiringly.  t"I  sho  will, 
Jedge,"  he  said.  "Alyanatying  her  'fections!  I  sho 
will !  Dat  sounds  mos'  ez  bad  ez  settin'  fire  ter  de 


CALEB  TRENCH  35 

cou't-house.  I  'low  Plato  ain't  gwine  ter  cotch  et  ef 
he  kin  help  it.  I  sho  ez  grateful  ter  yo'  all,  Jedge." 

The  judge  swung  his  revolving  chair  around  to 
his  desk.  "Very  good,"  he  said  grimly;  "you  can 
go  now,  Juniper." 

The  old  man  turned  and  shuffled  back  to  the  door ; 
as  he  opened  it  he  bowed  again.  "Alyanatying  her 
'fections !  I  'low  I  ain't  gwine  ter  fergit  dat.  Evenin', 
gentermen,"  and  he  closed  the  door. 

The  judge  looked  across  at  Caleb.  "That's  one 
of  the  Eaton  faction,"  he  remarked  grimly.  "  Yarnall 
has  to  contend  with  that  kind  of  cattle.  Jumper's 
sold,  body  and  soul,  to  the  Batons,  and  that  old  fool, 
Jinny  Eaton,  gave  him  a  silver-plated  teapot  for  his 
birthday.  You  might  as  well  give  a  nigger  a  diamond 
sunburst  or  a  tame  bear.  He  and  his  wife  have  been 
at  swords'  points  ever  since,  but  as  sure  as  the  first 
Tuesday  in  November  comes,  that  whole  black  horde 
will  vote  the  Eaton  ticket." 

Caleb  Trench  regarded  the  judge  thoughtfully. 
"You  'd  like  to  disfranchise  the  negro,"  he  remarked. 

Hollis  grunted.  "  You  're  a  black  Republican," 
he  said  bitingly. 

Trench  shook  his  head.  "No,  sir,  a  conservative," 
he  replied,  "  but  an  honest  man,  I  hope.  I  have  n't 
much  more  use  for  the  ignorant  black  vote  than  you 
have,  but  that  question  is  n't  the  one  that  hits  me, 
Judge." 

The  judge  looked  keenly  at  the  grim  composure  of 
the  face  opposite.  "What  does?" 


36  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Dishonesty,  fraud,  and  intimidation,"  Trench 
answered. 

"And  you  propose  to  oppose  and  expose  them?" 
The  old  man  was  keenly  interested,  his  heavy  brows 
drawn  down,  his  eyes  sparkling. 

"I  do." 

Judge  Hollis  rose  and  went  over  to  the  younger 
man.  He  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  You  're  a 
poor  man,  Trench;  they  '11  ruin  you." 

"So  be  it." 

"You're  alone;  they'll  kill  you,"  warned  the 
judge. 

Trench  rose,  and  as  his  tall  figure  towered,  the  fine 
width  of  his  brow  and  the  peculiar  lucidity  of  his 
glance  had  never  seemed  more  striking.  Judge  Hollis 
watched  him  in  grim  admiration. 

"I  've  got  but  one  life,"  he  said,  "and,  as  God  sees 
me,  I  '11  live  that  life  hi  fear  of  no  man." 

The  judge  walked  slowly  back  to  his  seat,  took  off 
his  spectacles  and  laid  them  down  beside  his  brief. 
"Reckon  Jacob  Eaton's  got  his  match  at  last,"  he 
said,  "and,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  I  'm  glad  of  it !" 


IV 


DIANA    ROYALL   turned    her   horse's    head 
from  the  highroad  and  began  to  descend  the 
Trail  of  the  Cedar-bird.     It  was  late  after- 
noon, and  the  glory  of  the  west  was  suddenly  ob- 
scured with  a  bank  of  purple  clouds;    the  distant 
rumble  of  thunder  jarred  the  stillness,  and  a  moisture, 
the  promise  of  heavy  rain,   filled  the  air.     Long 
streamers  of  angry  clouds  drifted  across  the  upper 
sky,  and  far  off  the  tall  pines  stirred  restlessly. 

Regardless  of  these  threatenings  of  Nature,  Diana 
rode  on,  under  the  interlacing  boughs,  swaying  for- 
ward sometimes  in  her  saddle  to  avoid  a  sweeping 
branch,  while  her  horse  picked  his  way  in  the  narrow 
path,  often  sending  a  loose  stone  rolling  ahead  of 
them  or  crackling  a  fallen  limb.  Through  long  aisles 
of  young  green  she  caught  glimpses  of  the  river; 
now  and  then  a  frightened  rabbit  scurried  across  the 
path  or  a  squirrel  chattered  overhead.  She  loved 
the  voices  of  the  wild  things,  the  fragrant  stillness  of 
the  pinewoods,  the  perfume  of  young  blossomings. 
She  brought  her  horse  to  a  walk,  passing  slowly 
along  the  trail;  even  the  soft  young  leaves  that 
brushed  against  her  shoulder  were  full  of  friendships. 
She  loved  the  red  tips  of  the  maples,  and  the  new 


38  CALEB  TRENCH 

buds  of  the  hemlocks;  she  knew  where  she  ought  to 
hear  the  sweet  call  —  "Bob  White!"  —  and  once, 
before  the  clouds  threatened  so  darkly,  she  caught 
the  note  of  a  song-sparrow.  Life  was  sweet;  there 
was  a  joy  merely  in  living,  and  she  tried  to  crowd 
out  of  her  mind  that  little  angry  prick  of  mortifica- 
tion that  had  stung  her  ever  since  she  met  the  eyes 
of  Caleb  Trench  across  her  receipt.  He  had  known 
that  she  mocked  him,  had  scorned  to  notice  it,  and 
had  showed  that  he  was  stronger  mentally  than  she 
was.  In  that  single  instant  Diana  had  felt  herself 
small,  malicious,  discourteous,  and  the  thought  of 
it  was  like  the  taste  of  wormwood.  She  resented  it, 
and  resenting  it,  blamed  herself  less  than  she  blamed 
Trench.  Why  had  he  come  on  such  a  silly  errand? 
Why  had  he  tempted  her  to  rudeness?  The  question 
had  fretted  her  for  weeks ;  for  weeks  she  had  avoided 
passing  the  little  old  house  at  the  Cross-Roads  where 
Caleb  had  lived  now  for  three  years.  Yet,  when  she 
came  to  the  opening  in  the  cedars,  she  drew  near  un- 
consciously and  looked  down  at  the  old  worn  gable 
of  his  roof.  It  faced  northeast,  and  there  was  moss 
on  its  shingles;  she  saw  a  little  thin  trail  of  smoke 
clinging  close  to  the  lip  of  the  chimney,  for  the  at- 
mosphere was  heavy. 

Then  she  turned  impatiently  in  the  saddle,  breaking 
her  vagrant  thoughts  away  from  the  solitary  man, 
secretly  angry  that  she  had  thought  of  him  at  all. 
Her  glance  fell  on  a  mass  of  blossoming  wild  honey- 
suckle, and  the  loveliness  of  its  rose  tintings  drew  her; 


CALEB  TRENCH  39 

she  slipped  to  the  ground  and  patting  her  horse,  left 
the  bridle  loose  on  his  neck.  She  had  to  gather  up 
her  skirts  and  thread  her  way  through  a  bracken  of 
ferns  before  she  reached  the  tempting  flowers  and 
began  to  gather  them.  She  broke  off  a  few  sprays 
and  clustered  them  hi  her  hands,  pausing  to  look  out 
across  the  newly  plowed  fields  to  her  right ;  they  had 
been  sown  to  oats,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  saw 
the  first  faint  drift  of  green  on  the  crests  of  the  fur- 
rows. The  next  moment  a  crash  of  thunder  shook 
the  air,  the  trees  overhead  cracked  and  bent  low  be- 
fore the  onrush  of  the  sudden  gust.  Her  horse,  a 
restive  creature,  shied  violently  and  stood  shivering 
with  fear.  Diana,  grasping  her  flowers,  started 
through  the  ferns,  calling  to  him,  but  a  blinding  flash 
followed  by  more  thunder  forestalled  her;  the  horse 
rose  on  his  haunches  and  stood  an  instant,  quivering, 
a  beautiful  untamed  creature,  his  mane  flying  in  the 
wind,  and  then  plunged  forward  and  galloped  down 
the  trail. 

Diana  called  to  him  again  helplessly  and  foolishly, 
for  her  voice  was  lost  hi  the  crackling  of  boughs  and 
the  boom  of  thunder;  she  was  alone  in  the  lonely 
spot,  with  the  wind  whistling  hi  her  ears.  It  ripped 
the  leaves  from  the  trees  overhead  and  she  stood  hi 
a  hail  of  green  buds.  The  fury  of  the  gale  increased, 
the  black  clouds  advanced  across  the  heavens  with  long 
streamers  flying  ahead  of  them,  the  light  in  the  upper 
sky  went  out,  darkness  increased;  suddenly  the 
woods  were  twilight  and  she  heard  no  sound  but  the 


40  CALEB  TRENCH 

mighty  rush  of  the  wind.  As  yet  no  rain  fell,  only 
leaves,  broken  twigs,  and,  at  last,  great  branches 
crashed.  The  lightning  tore  the  clouds  apart  in 
fearful  rents. 

It  was  a  long  way  home,  seven  and  a  half  miles, 
and  already  big  drops  spattered  through  the  trees. 
Strangely  enough,  a  thought  of  Caleb's  walk  with 
the  six  cents  flashed  in  upon  her  and  she  resented  it. 
Yet  the  nearest  shelter  was  the  little  shop  at  the 
Cross-Roads.  It  made  no  difference,  she  would  face 
the  storm;  and  she  started  boldly  down  the  trail 
though  the  bushes  whipped  against  her  skirt  and  the 
boughs  threatened  her.  Once  a  rolling  stone  nearly 
threw  her  down,  but  she  kept  resolutely  on.  If  the 
horse  went  home  riderless,  what  would  they  think? 
She  could  only  dimly  conjecture  Colonel  Royall's 
distress,  but  she  would  not  go  to  the  little  shop  to 
telephone;  she  would  walk  home! 

She  kept  steadily  on.  Twice  the  force  of  the  wind 
almost  drove  her  back;  twice  she  had  to  stop  and 
steady  herself  against  a  tree  trunk.  The  thought 
came  to  her  that  she  had  been  foolish  to  stay  out  so 
long,  but  she  scarcely  heeded  it  now,  for  the  wind 
had  torn  her  hat  off  and  loosened  her  hair,  and  it 
was  whipping  her  clothes  about  and  tearing  at  her 
like  a  malicious  spirit.  She  reached  the  end  of  the 
path  and  came  into  the  turnpike  just  as  the  ram 
came  in  a  blinding  sheet,  white  as  sea-spray,  and 
closed  down  around  her  with  a  rush  of  water  like  a 
cloudburst.  She  kept  on  with  difficulty  now,  scarcely 


CALEB  TRENCH  41 

seeing  her  way,  and  another  rolling  stone  caught  her 
foot.  She  stumbled  and  nearly  fell,  straightening 
herself  with  an  agony  darting  through  her  ankle ;  she 
had  given  it  a  sharp  twist  and  it  no  longer  bore  her 
weight  without  anguish.  She  reeled  against  a  fence 
at  the  wayside  and  held  to  it,  trying  to  be  sure  that 
she  was  hi  the  road.  Then  another  flash  showed  her 
the  shop  at  the  Cross-Roads,  not  twenty  feet  away. 
An  hour  before  she  could  not  have  imagined  her  joy  at 
seeing  it,  now  she  had  only  the  hope  that  she  could 
reach  it.  The  pain  hi  her  ankle  increased,  and  her 
drenched  clothes  clung  to  her;  she  pulled  herself 
forward  slowly,  clinging  to  the  fence.  The  roar  of  the 
wind  filled  the  world,  and  the  rani  drove  in  her  face. 

She  did  not  see  the  man  in  the  door  of  the  shop; 
she  did  not  know  that,  looking  at  the  storm,  he  saw  a 
figure  clinging  to  the  fence,  but  she  suddenly  felt 
herself  lifted  from  the  ground  and  borne  forward  in 
strong  arms.  Then  something  seemed  to  snap  in 
her  brain,  she  swam  in  darkness  for  a  moment,  with 
the  throb  of  pain  reaching  up  to  her  heart,  before  she 
lost  even  the  consciousness  of  that. 

Afterwards,  when  light  began  to  filter  back,  she 
was  being  carried  still,  and  almost  instantly  full  com- 
prehension returned.  She  was  aware  that  it  was 
Caleb  Trench  who  carried  her,  and  that  he  did  it 
easily,  though  she  was  no  light  burden.  He  was 
taking  her  from  the  shop  into  his  office  beyond  when 
she  recovered,  and  she  roused  herself  with  an  effort 
and  tried  to  slip  to  the  floor. 


42  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Be  careful,"  he  said  quickly,  with  an  authority  in 
his  tone  which,  even  at  that  moment,  reached  her; 
"you  may  have  sprained  or  broken  your  ankle,  I  do 
not  know  which."  And  he  carried  her  to  a  plain  old 
leather  lounge  in  the  corner  and  put  her  gently  down. 
"Are  you  in  pain?"  he  asked,  turning  up  the  lamp 
which  he  had  already  lighted. 

The  light  fell  on  his  face  as  well  as  upon  hers,  and  as 
she  looked  up,  Diana  was  impressed  with  the  vivid 
force,  the  directness,  the  self-absorption  of  the  man's 
look.  If  her  presence  there  meant  anything  to  him, 
if  he  had  felt  her  beauty  and  her  charm  as  she  lay 
helpless  in  his  arms,  he  gave  no  sign.  It  was  a  look 
of  power,  of  reserve,  of  iron  will;  she  was  suddenly 
conscious  of  an  impulse  to  answer  him  as  simply  as  a 
child. 

"It  is  nothing,"  she  said;  "I  don't  believe  I'm 
even  hurt  much.  Where  did  you  find  me?" 

"Almost  at  my  door,"  he  replied,  moving  quietly 
to  a  kind  of  cupboard  at  the  other  side  of  the  room 
and  pouring  some  brandy  into  a  glass.  "You  must 
drink  this;  your  clothing  is  soaked  through  and  I 
have  nothing  dry  to  offer  you,  but  if  you  can,  come 
to  the  fire." 

Diana  took  the  liquor  and  drank  it  obediently,  un- 
consciously yielding  to  the  calm  authority  of  his  man- 
ner. Then  she  tried  to  rise,  but  once  on  her  feet, 
staggered,  and  would  have  fallen  but  for  his  arm. 
He  caught  her  and  held  her  erect  a  moment,  then 
gathered  her  up  without  a  word,  and  carried  her  to 


CALEB  TRENCH  43 

a  seat  by  the  little  open  stove  into  which  he  had 
already  thrown  some  wood.  Diana  sank  into  his  old 
armchair  with  crimson  cheeks.  She  was  half  angry, 
half  amused;  he  was  treating  her  like  an  injured 
child,  and  with  as  little  heed  of  her  grand-dame  man- 
ners as  if  she  had  been  six  years  old. 

"  I  have  telephoned  to  Dr.  Cheyney,"  he  said  simply, 
"  but,  of  course,  this  storm  will  delay  him." 

"I  am  not  ill,"  Diana  protested.  "I  am  not  even 
badly  hurt ;  my  horse  ran  away,  and  I  —  I  think  I 
sprained  my  ankle." 

"You  were  clinging  to  the  fence,"  Trench  said, 
without  apparent  emotion,  "and  you  fainted  when  I 
lifted  you." 

She  sickened  at  the  memory,  yet  was  woman  enough 
to  resent  the  man's  indifference.  "I'm  sorry  you 
'phoned  for  poor  old  Dr.  Cheyney,"  she  said  stiffly; 
"please  'phone  to  my  people  to  send  for  me." 

"I  tried,"  he  replied,  undisturbed  by  her  hauteur, 
"but  the  storm  must  have  interfered.  I  can't  get 
them,  and  now  I  can't  get  Dr.  Cheyney." 

"  How  long  was  I  unconscious? "  she  asked  quickly, 
trying  to  piece  together  her  recovery  and  all  that  he 
had  done. 

"Ten  minutes,"  he  answered.  "I  saw  the  horse 
going  by  riderless  and  went  out  to  look.  It  seemed 
a  long  time  before  I  saw  you  coming  and  carried  you 
into  the  shop.  I  thought  you  were  not  coming  to, 
and  you  were  so  soaked  with  water  that  I  had  lifted 
you  to  bring  you  to  the  fire  when  you  recovered." 


44  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  hope  Jerry  got  home,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 
"It  was  my  folly;  I  saw  how  black  the  clouds  were, 
and  I  ought  to  have  gone  home." 

Trench  stooped  for  more  wood  and  fed  the  fire,  the 
glow  lighting  up  his  face  again.  "Where  were  you?" 
he  asked  simply,  and  then  "I  beg  your  pardon  —  " 

"I  was  up  the  trail,"  she  said  quietly.  "I  stayed 
too  long.  It  was  beautiful ;  all  the  young  things  are 
budding.  I  dismounted  to  gather  some  wild  honey- 
suckle—  and  it  is  gone!" 

For  the  first  time  his  eyes  met  hers  with  a  glow  of 
understanding.  "  Did  you  notice  the  turn  above  the 
river?"  he  asked,  still  feeding  the  fire. 

She  smiled  reluctantly.  "  How  white  the  cucumber 
is,"  she  answered,  "and  did  you  see  the  red  tips  of 
the  maples?  How  glossy  the  new  green  leaves  look ! " 

"There  is  a  place  there,  where  the  old  hickory  fell, 
where  you  can  see  the  orchard  and  that  low  meadow 
by  the  lane  —  "  His  face  was  almost  boyish,  eager 
for  sympathy,  awakened,  changed. 

"It  is  beautiful,"  Diana  replied,  nodding,  "  and  one 
hears  the  Bob  White  there." 

"Ah!"  he  breathed  softly,  "you  noticed?" 

Diana  leaned  her  elbow  on  the  worn  arm  of  his 
chair  and  nestled  her  chin  in  her  hand,  watching  him. 
After  all,  what  manner  of  man  was  he? 

The  storm,  still  raging  in  all  its  fury,  shook  the  house 
to  its  foundation ;  a  deafening  crash  of  thunder  seemed 
to  demolish  all  other  sounds.  She  glanced  covertly 
about  the  little  room,  seeking  some  explanation  there. 


CALEB  TRENCH  45 

A  village  shopkeeper  who  was  by  nature  a  poet  and  a 
mystic,  and  of  whom  men  spoke  as  a  politician  — 
there  was  a  paradox.  Something  like  amusement 
touched  the  edge  of  her  thought,  but  she  tried  for  the 
first  time  to  understand.  The  room  was  small  and 
lined  on  two  sides  with  rough  bookshelves  made  of 
unstained  pine,  yet  there  was  a  picturesqueness  in 
the  medley  of  old  books,  grouped  carelessly  about 
them.  There  were  a  few  old  worn  leather  chairs  and 
the  lounge,  a  faded  rug,  a  table  littered  with  papers 
and  pens  around  the  shaded  lamp,  beside  which  lay 
his  pipe.  His  dog,  Shot,  a  yellow  nondescript,  lay 
across  the  threshold,  nose  between  paws,  watching 
her  suspiciously.  The  place  was  homely  yet  severe, 
clean  but  disorderly,  and  the  strangest  touch  of  all 
was  the  big  loose  bunch  of  apple-blossoms  in  an  old 
earthen  jar  in  the  corner,  the  pink  and  white  of  the 
fragile  blooms  contrasting  charmingly  with  the  dull 
tintings  of  the  earthenware,  and  bringing  the  fra- 
grance of  spring  into  the  little  room.  Their  grouping, 
and  the  corner  in  which  he  had  placed  them,  where 
the  light  just  caught  the  beauty  of  the  delicate  petals, 
arrested  Diana's  thought. 

"You  are  an  artist,"  she  remarked  approvingly; 
"or  else  —  was  it  an  accident?" 

He  followed  her  glance  and  smiled,  and  she  noticed 
that,  in  spite  of  the  rugged  strength  and  homeliness 
of  his  face,  his  rare  smile  had  almost  the  sweetness  of 
a  woman's.  "Not  altogether  accident,"  he  said,  "but 
the  falling  of  the  light  which  seems  to  lift  them  out 


46  CALEB  TRENCH 

of  the  shadows  behind  them.  Is  n't  it  fair  that  I 
should  have  something  beautiful  in  this  shabby 
place?" 

Diana  colored;  had  he  noticed  her  survey  and 
again  thought  her  discourteous?  She  could  say 
nothing  to  refute  its  shabbiness  and,  for  the  moment, 
her  usual  tact  deserted  her.  She  sat  looking  at  the 
apple-blossoms  in  silence  while  he  rose  from  his  place 
as  fire-feeder,  and,  going  to  the  kitchen,  came  back 
with  a  cup  of  hot  tea. 

"You  had  better  drink  this,"  he  advised  quietly; 
"  I  Jm  afraid  you  '11  take  cold.  I  hope  the  tea  will 
be  right;  you  see  I  am  'the  cook  and  the  captain 
too.'" 

She  took  the  cup,  obediently  again,  and  feeling  like 
a  naughty  child.  "  It  is  excellent,"  she  said,  tasting  it ; 
"I  didn't  know  a  mere  man  could  make  such  good 
tea." 

He  laughed.  "Once  or  twice,  you  know,  men  have 
led  a  forlorn  hope.  I  sometimes  feel  like  that  when  I 
attack  the  domestic  mysteries." 

"  Courage  has  its  own  rewards  —  even  hi  tea,  then ! " 
she  retorted,  wondering  if  all  the  men  who  lived  thus 
alone  knew  how  to  do  so  many  things  for  themselves? 
In  her  experience  it  had  been  the  other  way.  Colonel 
Royall  was  as  helpless  as  a  baby  and  needed  almost 
as  much  care,  and  Jacob  Eaton  had  a  scornful  disre- 
gard of  domestic  details,  only  demanding  his  own 
comforts,  and  expecting  that  his  adoring  mother  would 
provide  them  without  annoying  him  with  even  the 


CALEB  TRENCH  47 

ways  and  means.  It  occurred  to  Diana  that,  perhaps, 
it  was  the  wide  difference  in  social  position,  that  gen- 
tlemen might  be  helpless  in  matters  where  the  humbler 
denizens  of  the  earth  had  to  be  accomplished;  that, 
in  short,  Caleb  Trench  must  make  his  own  tea  or  go 
without,  while  Jacob  Eaton  could  pay  for  the  making 
of  an  indefinite  succession  of  cups  of  tea.  Yet,  was 
this  man  entirely  out  of  her  class?  Diana  tasted  the 
tea,  with  a  critical  appreciation  of  its  admirable  quali- 
ties, and  quietly  viewed  the  tea-maker.  He  was  seated 
again  now  in  the  old  armchair  by  the  table,  and  she 
observed  the  strong  lines  of  his  long-fingered  muscular 
hands,  the  pose  and  firmness  of  the  unquestionably  in- 
tellectual head.  There  was  nothing  commonplace, 
nothing  unrefined  in  his  aspect,  yet  all  her  training 
went  to  place  between  them  an  immeasurable  social 
chasm.  She  regarded  him  curiously,  as  one  might  re- 
gard the  habitant  of  another  and  an  inferior  hemi- 
sphere, and  he  was  poignantly  aware  of  her  mental 
attitude.  Neither  spoke  for  a  while,  and  nothing  was 
audible  in  the  room  but  the  crash  and  uproar  of  the 
storm  without.  In  contrast,  the  light  and  shelter  of 
the  little  place  seemed  like  a  flower-scented  refuge 
from  pandemonium.  Diana  looked  over  her  teacup 
at  the  silent  man,  who  seemed  less  ill  at  ease  than  she 
was. 

"I  think  you  are  a  stranger  here,  Mr.  Trench,"  she 
said,  in  her  soft  voice;  "at  least,  we  who  have  been 
here  twenty  years  call  every  one  else  a  stranger  and 
a  sojourner  in  the  land." 


48  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  have  been  here  only  three  years,"  he  replied, 
"  but  I  do  not  feel  myself  altogether  a  stranger  —  to 
backwoodsmen,"  he  added  ironically. 

She  glanced  up  quickly,  recalling  the  talk  between 
her  father  and  Jacob  Eaton.  "Is  it  you  who  are  or- 
ganizing them?"  she  asked  lightly. 

Her  question  took  him  by  surprise,  and  he  showed 
it;  it  seemed  like  an  echo  of  old  Judge  Hollis.  "I  'm 
no  organizer,  Miss  Royall,"  he  replied  simply,  stoop- 
ing to  caress  the  dog,  who  had  come  to  lay  his  rough 
head  against  his  knee. 

She  smiled;  something  in  his  manner,  an  indefin- 
able distinction  and  fineness,  began  to  make  her  feel 
at  ease  with  him.  "Is  that  mere  modesty?"  she 
asked.  "  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  —  I  love  politics 
and,"  she  laughed  gently,  "I  'm  profoundly  ignorant." 

His  rare  smile  lighted  the  repose  of  his  strong  face 
again.  "I  am  not  a  desirable  teacher  for  you,  Miss 
Royall,"  he  replied;  "I  'in  that  abnormal  thing,  that 
black  sheep  in  the  neighborhood,  a  Republican." 

She  leaned  over  and  set  her  empty  cup  on  the  table. 
"I  am  immensely  interested,"  she  said.  "A  Repub- 
lican is  almost  as  curious  as  the  famed  '  Jabberwock.' 
It  is  n't  possible  that  you  are  making  Republicans  up 
in  the  timberlands?" 

"Some  one  must  have  told  you  so,"  he  retorted 
quietly,  a  flicker  of  humor  in  his  grave  eyes ;  "  they 
look  upon  me  here  as  they  would  on  a  fox  in  a 
chicken-yard." 

She  colored;    she  did  not  want  to  speak  of  her 


CALEB  TRENCH  49 

father  or  her  cousin.  "You  see  what  a  busy  thing 
rumor  is,"  she  said. 

"You  divine  how  harmless  I  am,"  he  went  on, 
stooping  again  to  throw  another  stick  into  the  blaze ; 
"  a  single  Republican  in  a  wilderness  of  Democrats. 
I  'm  no  better  than  one  old  woodchuck  in  a 
cornfield." 

"A  little  leaven  will  leaven  the  whole  lump,"  she 
laughed. 

Her  new  tone,  which  was  easy  now  and  almost 
friendly,  touched  him  and  melted  his  reserve;  he 
looked  up  smiling  and  caught  her  beauty  and  warmth, 
the  lovely  contour  of  her  face.  Her  hat  had  been  lost, 
and  the  fire  was  drying  her  moist  hair,  which  was 
loosened  in  soft  curls  about  her  forehead.  Her  pres- 
ence there  began  to  reach  the  man's  inner  conscious- 
ness, from  which  he  had  been  trying  to  shut  her 
out.  He  was  fighting  to  bar  his  thought  against  her, 
and  her  lovely  presence  hi  his  room  seemed  to  diffuse 
a  warmth  and  color  and  happiness  that  made  his 
pulses  throb  more  quickly.  Even  the  dog  felt  her 
benign  influence  and  looked  up  at  her  approvingly. 
Trench  steadied  his  mind  to  answer  her  banter  in 
her  own  tone. 

"The  lump  will  reject  the  leaven  first,  I  fear,"  he 
said  lightly;  "I  never  dreamed  of  such  vivid  convic- 
tions with  so  little  knowledge,"  he  added.  "I  come 
from  a  race  of  calm  reasoners;  my  people  were 
Quakers." 

"Oh!"    She  blushed  as  the  exclamation  escaped 

4 


50  CALEB  TRENCH 

her,  for  she  had  suddenly  remembered  the  six  cents 
and  understood  the  absurdity  of  his  seven-mile  walk ; 
it  was  the  Quaker  hi  him.  "I  know  nothing  in  the 
world  about  Quakers  beyond  their  —  their  —  " 

"Hats?"  he  laughed;  "like  cardinals,  they  have 
that  distinction." 

"Do  you  think  me  very  ignorant?"  she  asked,  un- 
conscious that  she  was  bridging  the  social  chasm 
again  and  again,  that  she  had,  indeed,  forgotten  it 
in  her  interest  in  the  man.  His  dog  had  come  over 
now  and  laid  his  head  in  Diana's  lap,  and  she  caressed 
it  unconsciously;  the  dumb  overture  of  friendship 
always  touched  her. 

Trench  turned.  The  firelight  was  on  both  their 
faces,  and  he  met  her  eyes  with  that  luminous  glance 
which  seemed  to  compel  hers.  "It  would  be  very 
difficult  for  me  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you,"  he 
said  deliberately,  but  with  a  humorous  kindness  in 
his  voice. 

Diana  drew  back;  she  was  not  sure  that  she  was 
annoyed.  It  was  new,  it  was  almost  delightful  to  meet 
a  primitive  person  like  this.  She  could  not  be  sure  of 
social  banalities  here;  he  might  say  something  new, 
something  that  stirred  her  pulses  at  any  moment.  It 
was  an  alarming  but  distinctly  pleasurable  sensation, 
this  excursion  into  another  sphere;  it  was  almost  as 
exciting  as  stealing  pears.  She  looked  at  him  with 
sparkling  eyes. 

"Could  n't  you  try?"  she  asked  daringly,  and  felt 
a  tremulous  hope  that  he  would,  though  she  could  not 


CALEB  TRENCH  51 

believe  it  possible  that  he  would  calmly  cross  the 
social  Rubicon  again,  and  make  her  feel  that  all  men 
were  and  are  "of  necessity  free  and  equal." 

"You  do  not  really  wish  me  to  try,"  he  retorted; 
"to  you  this  is  an  adventure,  and  I"  —  he  smiled, 
but  a  deeper  emotion  darkened  his  eyes  —  "I  am  the 
dancing  bear." 

Her  cheeks  reddened  yet  more  deeply,  and  her 
breath  came  quickly.  What  had  she  done?  Opened 
the  way  for  a  dilemma?  This  man  would  not  be  led; 
he  was  a  new  and  alarming  problem.  She  was  trying 
to  collect  her  thoughts  to  answer  him,  to  put  back 
the  old  tone  of  trivial  banter,  to  restore  the  lost 
equilibrium,  but  happily  she  was  spared  the  task. 
The  tempest  had  lulled  unnoticed,  while  they  talked, 
and  they  were  suddenly  aware  that  the  shop-door  had 
opened  and  closed  again,  and  some  one  was  coming 
toward  them.  The  next  moment  Dr.  Cheyney  ap- 
peared at  the  threshold,  and  Diana  sank  back  into 
the  shelter  of  the  old  chair  with  a  feeling  of  infinite 
relief. 


HALF  an  hour  later  Caleb  Trench  was  helping 
his  two  guests  into  the  doctor's  old-fash- 
ioned, high-topped  buggy. 

"That  '11  do,  Caleb ;  I  've  got  her  safely  tucked  in," 
Dr.  Cheyney  said,  as  he  gathered  the  reins  up  and 
disentangled  them  from  old  Henk's  tail.  "I  reckon 
Henk  and  I  can  carry  her  all  right;  she  isn't  any 
more  delicate  than  a  basket  of  eggs." 

Diana  smiled  in  her  corner  of  the  carriage.  "Thank 
you  again,  Mr.  Trench,"  she  said  gently;  "it 's  nice 
to  have  some  one  considerate.  Dr.  Cheyney  has  al- 
ways scolded  me,  and  I  suppose  he  always  will." 

"Think  likely,"  the  doctor  twinkled;  "you  mostly 
deserve  it,  Miss  Royall." 

"He's  worse  when  he  calls  me  names,"  Diana 
lamented,  and  bowed  her  head  again  to  Caleb  as  old 
Henk  started  deliberately  upon  his  way, 

The  hood  of  the  vehicle  shut  off  her  view,  and  she 
did  not  know  that  Trench  stood  bareheaded  in  the 
rain  to  watch  the  receding  carriage,  until  the  drenched 
green  boughs  locking  over  the  road  closed  his  last 
glimpse  of  it  in  a  mist-wreathed  perspective,  beauti- 
ful with  wind-beaten  showers  of  dogwood  bloom. 

The  two  inside  the  buggy  were  rather  silent  for  a 


CALEB  TRENCH  53 

while.  Diana  was  watching  the  light  rainfall.  The 
sun  was  breaking  through  the  clouds,  and  the  at- 
mosphere became  wonderfully  translucent.  Great 
branches  were  strewn  by  the  way,  and  a  tall  pine, 
cleft  from  tip  to  root,  showed  the  course  of  a  thunder- 
bolt. The  stream  was  so  swollen  that  old  Henk 
forded  with  cautious  feet,  and  the  water  lapped 
above  the  carriage  step. 

"Drowned  out  most  of  the  young  crops,"  Dr. 
Cheyney  remarked  laconically. 

"What  sort  of  a  man  is  Caleb  Trench?"  Diana 
asked  irrelevantly. 

Dr.  Cheyney  looked  around  at  her  with  quizzical 
eyes.  "A  shopkeeper,"  he  replied.  "I  reckon  that 's 
about  as  far  as  you  got  before  to-day,  was  n't  it?" 

She  colored.  "I  suppose  it  was,"  she  admitted, 
and  then  added,  "Not  quite,  doctor;  I  saw  that  he 
was  odd." 

The  old  man  smiled.  "Di,"  he  said,  "when  you 
were  no  higher  than  my  knee  you  'd  have  been  more 
truthful.  You  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  man  is 
above  the  average ;  he  's  keeping  shop  and  reading 
law  down  at  Judge  Hollis'  office,  and  he  's  trying  to 
teach  the  backwoodsmen  honest  politics.  Taken  out 
a  pretty  large  contract,  eh?" 

Diana  looked  down  at  her  fine  strong  hands  lying 
crossed  in  her  lap ;  her  face  was  deeply  thoughtful. 
"I  suppose  he  's  bent  on  rising  in  politics,"  she  said, 
with  a  touch  of  scorn  in  her  voice;  "the  typical  self- 
made  man." 


54  CALEB  TRENCH 

"  You  did  n't  happen  to  know  that  he  was  a  gentle- 
man," Dr.  Cheyney  remarked  dryly. 

She  met  his  eye  and  smiled  unwillingly.  "I  did," 
she  said ;  "  I  saw  it  —  to-night." 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you?"  The  old  man  slapped 
Henk  with  the  reins.  "Well,  what  else  did  you  see?" 

"Very  little,  I  imagine,"  she  replied.  "I  suppose  I 
thought  he  had  '  a  story ' ;  that 's  the  common  thing, 
isn't  it?" 

"Maybe,"  admitted  the  doctor,  "but  it  isn't  so, 
as  far  as  I  know.  Caleb  Trench  comes  of  good  old 
stock  in  Pennsylvania.  His  father  lost  a  fortune 
just  before  Caleb  left  college;  the  old  man's  dead, 
and  his  wife,  too.  Trench  has  had  to  work  and  work 
hard.  He  could  n't  take  his  law  course,  and  he  's 
never  complained.  He  got  together  a  little  money 
and  had  to  pay  it  all  out  for  his  sister;  she  was 
dying  of  some  spinal  trouble,  and  had  to  be  nursed 
through  a  long  illness  and  buried.  Trench  gave  every 
cent ;  now  he  's  making  a  new  start.  Hollis  likes 
him,  so  does  Miss  Sarah." 

Diana  smiled.  "  It 's  something  to  please  Miss 
Sarah." 

"I  never  did,"  said  William  Cheyney  calmly;  "she 
declares  I  tried  to  poison  her  last  time  she  was  laid  up 
with  sciatica.  She  's  taking  patent  medicines  now, 
and  when  she  's  at  the  last  gasp  she  '11  send  for  me 
and  lay  the  blame  on  my  shoulders." 

"It's  hard  to  be  a  doctor  after  all,  isn't  it?" 
laughed  Diana;  then  she  leaned  forward  and  caught 


CALEB  TRENCH  55 

the  blossoming  end  of  a  vagrant  dogwood  and  broke 
off  the  flowers  as  they  passed.  "Dr.  Cheyney,"  she 
went  on,  after  a  long  moment,  "I  've  wanted  you  to 
see  father  again;  I  don't  believe  he  's  well." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  doctor,  his  eyes  on  the 
mist  of  rain  that  seemed  to  move  before  them  like 
the  pillar  of  cloud  before  the  Israelites. 

"He's  moody,"  she  said,  "he's  almost  sad  at 
times  and  —  and  he  spent  an  hour  in  the  Shut 
Room  —  "  She  paused  and  looked  questioningly  at 
the  old  man  beside  her,  but  he  made  no  comment. 

In  the  pause  they  heard  the  slush  of  Henk's  hoofs 
in  the  muddy  road. 

"I  wish  he  wouldn't,"  Diana  continued;  "it's 
beautiful  —  his  devotion  to  my  mother's  memory, 
but  I  —  I  'm  jealous  of  that  Shut  Room,  it  makes 
him  so  unhappy.  Could  n't  I  break  it  up  by  taking 
him  away?" 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "Better  not,  Diana," 
he  cautioned  her,  "better  not.  You  can't  uproot  an 
old  tree.  Let  him  fight  his  battle  out  alone." 

"I  can't  bear  that  he  should  be  alone,"  she  pro- 
tested tenderly.  "I  can't  bear  to  be  shut  out  even 
from  his  griefs.  Pa  and  I  are  all  in  all  to  each 
other.  Why  does  he  never  speak  of  mother?  Is 
it  his  sorrow?" 

Dr.  Cheyney  nodded,  pursing  his  lips.  Henk 
jogged  on. 

"  It 's  a  long  time,"  said  Diana,  "  I  was  only  three 
years  old." 


56  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Let  it  be,  my  girl,"  the  old  man  counseled;  "we 
can't  enter  the  upper  chamber  of  the  soul,  you  know. 
David 's  got  to  fight  it  out.  Sometimes  "  —  the 
doctor  let  the  reins  go  so  slack  that  old  Henk  walked 
—  "  sometimes  grief  is  like  a  raw  cut,  Diana,  and  we 
can't  put  in  a  few  stitches  either;  got  to  leave  that 
to  Providence." 

"He  is  n't  well,"  Diana  insisted. 

"  He  'd  be  no  better  for  my  meddling,"  Dr.  Chey- 
ney  retorted,  unmoved. 

"I  wanted  him  to  go  East  with  me,"  she  continued, 
"to  go  to  New  York." 

Dr.  Cheyney  glanced  up  quickly.  "And  he 
wouldn't?" 

Diana  shook  her  head. 

"Don't  you  ask  it,"  cautioned  the  old  man.  "It 's 
the  time  of  year  when  your  father 's  full  of  notions ; 
let  him  be." 

"The  time  of  year"  —  Diana  met  the  doctor's 
kindly  eyes  —  "when  mother  died?" 

William  Cheyney  turned  red.  The  girl,  looking  at 
him,  saw  the  dull  red  stealing  up  to  the  old  man's 
white  hair  and  wondered. 

"Yes,"  he  said. 

"Do  I  look  like  her?"  Diana  asked,  after  a  moment 
of  perplexed  thought. 

"No !"  said  Dr.  Cheyney  shortly. 

Old  Henk  had  climbed  the  last  hill,  —  the  one  that 
always  seems  to  meet  the  sky  until  you  have  climbed 
it,  —  and  there,  below  it,  unfolded  the  wide  valley 


CALEB  TRENCH  57 

with  the  brown  of  new-plowed  fields  and  the  long 
strips  of  lovely  foliage.  The  mist  of  the  rain  was 
molten  gold  now,  and  a  rainbow  spanned  the  sky. 

"I  wish  I  did !"  Diana  sighed  regretfully. 

"You're  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  State," 
the  old  doctor  retorted  tartly.  "What  more  do  you 
want?" 

"The  kingdoms  of  earth,"  replied  Diana,  and 
laughed  softly. 

Dr.  Cheyney  disentangled  the  rein  again  from 
old  Henk's  tail,  and  they  turned  the  corner. 

"Diana,"  he  said  abruptly,  "did  you  happen  to 
ask  Caleb  Trench  to  call?" 

"I?"  Diana  flushed  crimson.  "No,"  she  said  re- 
luctantly, "I  did  n't." 

Dr.  Cheyney  shook  with  silent  laughter.  "That 's 
the  way  you  treat  the  good  Samaritan,"  he  said. 
"I  'd  rather  be  the  Levite,  Di." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  corner  of  the  carriage, 
blushing  but  resentful,  a  line  between  her  brows.  "It 
would  n't  be  any  use,"  she  said.  "I  —  I  could  n't 
make  him  feel  welcome  there." 

"You  mean  that  Cousin  Jacob  would  insult  him," 
Dr.  Cheyney  said  bluntly. 

She  stiffened.  "I  should  protect  my  own  guests," 
she  retorted  hotly. 

"Could  you?"  asked  the  doctor  dryly. 

Diana  met  his  eyes  indignantly;  then  a  throb  of 
pain  in  her  ankle  made  her  wince. 

"  I  reckon  it  does  hurt,  Di."    The  old  ma,n  smiled 


58  CALEB  TRENCH 

compassionately.  "I  '11  bandage  it  when  we  get  you 
home.  Don't  be  capering  off  your  horse  again  in 
thunder-storms." 

"I'd  be  sure  to  break  my  neck  next  time,  I  sup- 
pose," she  said  ruefully. 

"Let  it  be  a  leg,  Di,"  advised  the  doctor,  "that 
would  give  me  a  job;  the  other  would  all  go  to  the 
undertaker.  He  told  me  once,"  he  added,  with  a 
twinkle,  "that  we  worked  so  much  together  we  ought 
to  have  a  common  interest.  I  believe  he  wanted  to 
found  a  trust  — '  doctors'  and  undertakers'  amal- 
gamated protected'  —  or  something  of  that  sort.  I 
begged  off  on  the  ground  of  injury  to  my  profession. 
I  told  him  it  would  n't  do  for  a  poor  man  like  me  to 
go  into  a  trust  with  a  rich  planter." 

"Dr.  Cheyney,"  Diana  interrupted,  "I  don't  want 
you  to  think  that  Jacob  Eaton  rules  our  house;  he 
has  more  influence  with  father  than  I  wish  he  had, 
but  he  can't  rule  father." 

"  I  suppose  you  '11  marry  him  in  the  end,"  William 
Cheyney  remarked  reflectively. 

Diana,  leaning  back  in  her  corner,  looked  thought- 
ful. "No,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  don't  believe  I 
will." 

The  doctor  slapped  Henk  again  with  his  loose  rein. 
"Why  not?"  he  asked  dispassionately. 

She  thought  a  moment,  a  gleam  of  mischief  deepen- 
ing in  her  glance.  "For  one  thing,  his  eyes  are  too 
near  together,"  she  said  at  last. 

"There  's  no  telling  but  what  you  could  get  them 


CALEB  TRENCH  59 

spaced  better,"  he  replied,  twinkling;  "science  is 
advancing,  and  so  is  wireless  telegraphy." 

Diana  laughed.  "Some  one  will  like  them  as  they 
are,"  she  said,  "and  Jacob  thinks  them  handsome." 

"Sleek  young  cub !"  said  the  doctor,  turning  hi  at 
the  gate  that  led  to  the  old  white  house  with  its  two 
wings  and  its  belvedere.  "  I  'd  like  you  to  marry  a 
real  man,  Di." 

Diana  leaned  her  head  back  hi  the  corner  and 
closed  her  eyes,  as  the  throbbing  pain  held  her  breath- 
less again.  Then  she  smiled.  "Dr.  Cheyney,"  she 
said,  "  do  you  remember  the  time  I  cried  because  you 
would  n't  give  me  the  pink  capsules?" 

"You  were  seven,"  replied  the  doctor  placidly. 
"I  remember.  They  would  have  killed  you,  but 
you  screamed  for  them;  you  raised  Cain  about 
them." 

"I  wanted  my  own  way,"  said  Diana,  "and  I 
want  it  still.  I  think  I  'd  better  be  an  old  maid." 

Old  Henk  was  jogging  up  the  path,  and  before  the 
doctor  could  reply  a  negro  stableman  came  running 
breathless,  and  stopped  at  the  sight  of  Diana. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd,  Miss  Di!"  he  said,  "I'se  glad  ter 
see  you.  Jerry  done  come  home  drenched,  an'  we  'se 
been  out  searchin'  —  scared  ter  tell  de  col'nel." 

"You  old  rogue!"  said  the  doctor,  "he  was  the 
first  one  to  tell.  Miss  Diana  has  sprained  her  ankle." 

"He  was  right,"  said  Diana  promptly;  "father 
would  have  been  out  in  the  storm  and  never  found 
me.  Texas,  go  on  up  and  tell  the  colonel  that  I  've 


60  CALEB  TRENCH 

hurt  my  ankle;  I  won't  have  him  worried,  and  I 
can't  walk  well  enough  to  deceive  him." 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  quizzically.  "That's 
right,  Di,"  he  said,  driving  on;  "you  've  spoilt  him, 
but  I  reckon  he  can  stand  it  if  I  can." 

"He  began  it,"  she  laughed  softly;  "he  spoilt  me 
first." 

Dr.  Cheyney  laughed  too.  "Perhaps  he  did,"  he 
admitted  gently,  —  "perhaps  he  did,  but  I'm  not 
sure ;  you  've  got  to  have  your  trial,  Diana." 

They  were  at  the  door  now,  and  she  laid  her  hand 
suddenly  over  the  old  man's.  "Dr.  Cheyney,"  she 
said,  "won't  you  thank  Caleb  Trench  and  tell  him 
I  'd  be  glad  to  have  him  come  up  here?  I  want  to 
thank  him  again  properly." 

"No,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney  promptly,  "I  won't." 

Diana's  eyes  opened.  "Why?"  she  demanded, 
flushing  hotly,  half  indignant. 

The  doctor  looked  over  the  top  of  his  spectacles. 
"  He  would  n't  come,  Diana,"  he  said ;  "  you  would  n't 
either,  hi  his  place." 

She  did  not  answer,  but  turned  away  abruptly  and 
reached  out  both  hands  to  Texas,  who  helped  her 
down.  "Good-bye,  doctor,"  she  said  coolly,  standing 
with  one  hand  on  the  negro's  shoulder. 

The  doctor  climbed  out.  "  Go  to ! "  he  said,  smiling 
grimly;  "I'm  coming  in  to  bandage  your  ankle. 
Don't  cry  for  the  pink  capsules  again,  Di." 

And  Diana  turned  crimson  with  anger. 


VI 


IN  the  weeks  that  followed,  while  Diana  nursed 
her  sprained  ankle  in  enforced  retirement, 
changes  were  taking  place  at  the  Cross-Roads. 
Caleb  Trench  did  not  close  his  little  shop,  but  he  put 
out  the  new  sign:  "Caleb  Trench,  Attorney-at-law." 

The  little  rear  room,  into  which  he  had  carried 
Diana,  was  converted  into  an  office,  with  a  new  table 
and  another  bookcase.  Shot,  the  yellow  mongrel, 
moved  from  the  rear  door  to  the  front,  and  the  great 
metamorphosis  was  complete.  If  we  could  only 
change  our  souls  as  easily  as  we  do  our  surroundings, 
how  magnificent  would  be  the  opportunities  of  life ! 

Caleb  Trench  had  opened  his  law  office,  but  as  yet 
he  had  no  clients,  that  is,  no  clients  who  were  likely 
to  pay  him  fees.  The  countrymen  who  traded  with 
him  and  knew  him  to  be  honest  came  by  the  score 
to  consult  him  about  their  difficulties,  but  they  had 
no  thought  of  paying  for  Caleb's  friendship,  and 
Caleb  asked  them  nothing.  Yet  his  influence  with 
them  grew  by  that  subtle  power  that  we  call  personal 
magnetism,  and  which  is,  more  truly,  the  magnetism  of 
vital  force  and  sometimes  of  a  clear  unbiased  mind. 

For  the  most  part  Caleb  and  the  dog  sat  together 
in  the  office,  and  their  friendship  for  each  other  was 


62  CALEB  TRENCH 

one  of  the  natural  outcomes  of  the  master's  life.  The 
solitary  man  loved  his  dog,  and  the  dog,  in  turn, 
adored  him  and  lay  content  for  hours  at  his  feet.  It 
was  the  seventh  week  after  he  had  carried  Diana  into 
his  little  shop,  and  as  he  sat  there,  by  his  desk,  the 
moving  sunshine  slanting  across  the  floor  of  the  office, 
he  recalled  the  instant  when  her  head  lay  uncon- 
sciously on  his  shoulder  and  her  cheek  touched  his 
rough  coat.  For  one  long  moment  his  mind  dwelt  on 
it,  and  dwelt  on  her  by  his  fire,  with  the  glow  of  it  in 
her  eyes,  her  soft  voice,  her  sweet  manners,  in  which 
there  was  just  a  suggestion  of  condescension,  until 
she  forgot  it  and  spoke  to  him  naturally  and  freely. 
He  saw  her  plainly  again,  as  plainly  as  he  saw  the 
swaying  boughs  of  the  silver  birch  before  his  window. 
Then  he  thrust  the  thought  resolutely  away  and 
turned  almost  with  relief  to  face  the  shambling  coun- 
try youth  who  had  entered  without  knocking. 

"Well,  Zeb?"  he  said  shortly,  but  not  unkindly. 

"I  stopped  by  ter  see  yo',  Mr.  Trench,"  Zeb  Bart- 
lett  drawled  slowly;  "I  thought  mebbe  yo 'd  help 
me  out." 

Trench  glanced  at  him  and  saw  that  he  had  been 
drinking.  He  was  a  lean,  lank  boy  of  nineteen,  with 
a  weak  face  that  gave  evidence  of  a  weaker  brain, 
and  he  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  his  half-sister; 
he  was  accounted  almost  an  idiot  by  the  gossips  of 
Eshcol,  and  was  always  in  trouble,  but,  as  he  was  the 
only  grandson  of  a  poor  old  woman,  he  escaped  his 
deserts. 


CALEB  TRENCH  03 

"What  do  you  want  now,  Zeb?"  Trench  asked 
dryly,  turning  back  to  his  papers ;  he  was  still  study- 
ing law  with  a  zeal  that  was  later  to  bear  fruit  in  the 
case  that  divided  Eshcol. 

"I  want  two  dollahs,"  Zeb  said  with  a  whine.  "I 
have  n't  had  any  work  fer  a  week,  an'  Jean 's  starvin' 
agin.  Gimme  two  dollahs,  Mr.  Trench,  an'  I  '11  re- 
turn it  with  —  with  interes'  on  Saturday  night,  sho'," 
he  said,  triumphing  at  the  end,  and  pulling  off  his 
soft  felt  hat  to  rub  his  head  helplessly. 

"Not  two  cents,"  said  Caleb;  "you'd  get  drunk." 

"  I  sure  won't ! "  protested  Zeb,  his  mouth  drooping 
and  his  hands  falling  weakly  at  his  sides,  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  lost  the  starch  necessary  to  keep  his  lines 
crisp.  "I  ain't  seen  liquor  fer  a  month." 

"What  have  you  been  drinking  then?"  Trench 
asked,  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile. 

"Water,"  said  Zeb,  rallying,  "water  —  ef  it  warn't 
fer  that  I  'd  be  dry  ez  punk.  'Deed,  Mr.  Trench,  I 
needs  money.  Jean 's  mighty  sick." 

"  No,  she  is  n't,"  said  Caleb.  "  I  spoke  to  her  at 
the  market  this  morning." 

Zeb's  mouth  opened  again,  like  a  stranded  fish,  and 
he  stared;  but  he  wanted  the  money.  "She  wuz 
took  sick  after  that,"  he  explained,  brightening,  "  she 
asked  me  ter  git  it.  Gimme  er  dollah,  Mr.  Trench." 

"No,"  said  Caleb. 

"Fifty  cents,"  whined  Zeb,  but  a  sullen  look  was 
coming  into  his  light  eyes. 

"No!" 


64  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Twenty-five  cents!"  pleaded  the  borrower, 
wheedling,  but  with  angry  eyes. 

"Not  a  cent;  you  'd  spend  it  on  whiskey,"  Caleb 
said. 

Zeb's  face  changed,  the  cringing  attitude  of  a 
seeker  of  a  favor  fell  from  him,  he  snarled.  "You  're 
a  low-down,  mean,  sniveling  shopkeeper ! "  he  began. 
"  I  believe  Jean 's  tellin'  on  yo',  sure  enough,  I  —  " 

Caleb  rose  from  his  seat,  his  great  figure  towering 
over  the  drunkard,  as  he  took  him  by  the  collar 
and  thrust  him  out  the  door.  "Go  home,"  he  said, 
"and  don't  you  ever  come  here  again!" 

Zeb  fell  out  of  his  hand  and  shambled  up  against 
the  silver  birch,  sputtering.  He  hated  Trench,  but 
he  was  afraid  to  give  voice  to  his  wrath.  Besides, 
Shot  was  between  them  now,  every  hair  erect  on  the 
ridge  of  his  spine.  Zeb  shook  his  fist  and  trembled. 

"Go  home,"  said  Trench  again,  and  then  to  the  dog, 
"  Come,  Shot ! "  and  he  turned  back  contemptuously. 

As  he  did  so,  a  tall  farmer  in  brown  homespun,  with 
a  wide-brimmed  straw  hat,  drove  up  in  his  light 
wagon  and  got  down  to  speak  to  him.  The  newcom- 
er's eyes  fell  on  Zeb.  "Drunk  again,"  he  remarked. 

Trench  nodded,  and  the  two  went  into  the  office. 

Zeb  Bartlett  sank  down  under  the  trees  and  wept ; 
he  was  just  far  enough  gone  to  dissolve  with  self- 
pity.  He  believed  Trench  to  be  a  monster  who  owed 
him  two  dollars  for  his  very  existence.  He  sat  under 
the  silver  birch  and  babbled  and  shook  his  fist.  Then 
his  thirst  overcame  him,  and  he  gathered  himself 


CALEB  TRENCH  65 

together  again  and  shambled  down  the  road  toward 
the  nearest  public  house.  He  usually  earned  his 
drinks  by  scrubbing  the  floors,  but  this  morning  he 
had  not  felt  like  scrubbing  and,  because  scrub  he 
must,  he  hated  Caleb  Trench  yet  more,  and  turned 
once  in  the  road  to  shake  his  fist  and  weep. 

Meanwhile  Trench  was  going  patiently  through 
the  papers  of  his  new  visitor,  Aaron  Todd.  The 
stout  mountaineer  owned  timber-lands,  had  a  saw- 
mill and  grew  corn  on  his  fertile  lower  meadows  for 
the  city  markets.  Todd  was  considered  rich,  and  his 
money  was  sought  for  new  investments.  The  get- 
rich-quick  machines  thrive  upon  the  outlying  dis- 
tricts. Todd  had  been  asked  to  put  more  money  in 
the  Eaton  Land  Company;  he  had  some  there  al- 
ready and  was  suddenly  smitten  with  a  caution  that 
sent  him  to  Caleb.  The  lawyer  was  new,  but  the 
clear  brain  of  the  shopkeeper  had  been  tested.  Todd 
knew  him,  and  watched  as  he  turned  the  papers  over 
and  read  the  glowing  circular  of  the  Land  Company, 
its  capital,  its  stock  and  its  declared  dividends.  It 
was  alluring  and  high  sounding,  a  gilt-edged  affair. 

Trench  looked  up  from  the  long  perusal,  the  per- 
pendicular line  between  his  brows  sharp  as  a  scar. 
"Are  you  all  in?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

Todd  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said  tersely, 
"about  five  thousand.  I  could  put  in  ten,  but  that 
would  strip  me  down  to  the  ground.  The  interest's 
large  and  I  need  it  if  I  'm  to  run  that  sawmill  another 
year." 

5 


06  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Don't  do  it,"  said  Trench. 

As  Todd  took  back  the  papers  and  strapped  them 
together  with  an  India-rubber  band,  his  face  was 
thoughtful.  "Why  not?"  he  asked  at  last ;  "you've 
got  a  reason." 

Trench  nodded. 

Todd  looked  at  him  keenly.  "Mind  tellin'  it?" 
he  asked. 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Caleb,  "it's  not  proven,  but 
I  'm  willing  to  show  you  one  objection;  this  scheme 
is  offering  abnormal  interest  —  " 

"And  paying  it,"  threw  hi  Todd. 

"And  paying  it  now,"  admitted  Trench,  "but  for 
how  long?  Why  can  they  pay  ten  per  cent  when  the 
others  only  pay  four  and  a  half?  I  'd  put  my  money 
in  the  four  and  a  half  per  cent  concerns  and  feel  safe. 
When  a  firm  offers  such  an  inducement,  it  's  not 
apt  to  be  sound ;  it  is  n't  legitimate  business,  as  I 
see  it." 

Todd  put  the  papers  slowly  back  into  his  pocket. 
"Mebbe  you're  right,"  he  admitted,  "but  they're 
all  in  it ;  I  reckon  the  whole  East  Mountain  district's 
in  it,  an'  half  of  Eshcol.  They  say  it 's  Jacob  Eaton's." 

Trench  strummed  lightly  on  the  desk  with  his 
fingers.  "  So  they  say,"  he  assented  without  emotion. 

Todd  ruminated,  cutting  off  a  piece  of  tobacco. 
"  Eaton 's  bent  on  lickin'  Yarnall  out  of  the  nomi- 
nation, an'  we  don't  want  Aylett  again.  I  believe  I  '11 
take  to  your  ticket,"  he  remarked. 

Trench  looked  at  him,  and  his  full  regard  had  a 


CALEB  TRENCH  67 

singularly  disconcerting  effect ;  Diana  herself  had  felt 
it.  "Vote  for  Peter  Mahan,"  he  said  coolly. 

"See  here,  Trench,"  said  Todd  abruptly,  "I  be- 
lieve you  'd  make  a  man  vote  for  the  devil  if  you 
looked  at  him  like  that!" 

Caleb  laughed,  and  his  laugh  was  as  winning  as 
his  smile ;  both  were  rare.  "  I  'm  only  suggesting 
Mahan,"  he  said. 

"We  've  never  had  a  Republican,  not  since  five 
years  before  the  war.  That  was  before  I  was  born," 
Todd  replied.  "It  would  sweep  out  every  office- 
holder in  the  State,  I  reckon." 

"Where's  your  civil  service?"  asked  Trench 
dryly. 

"It 's  rotten,"  said  Todd.  "There  ain't  a  man  in 
now  that  ain't  an  Eaton  or  an  Aylett  runner.  I  'd  a 
damned  sight  rather  hunt  a  flea  in  a  feather-bed  than 
try  to  catch  Jacob  Eaton  when  he 's  dodging  in 
politics." 

"Yet  Mr.  Eaton  has  you  all  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,"  said  Trench.  "You  don't  like  his  methods; 
you  're  all  the  time  reviling  his  politics,  but  there 
is  n't  a  man  among  you  that  dares  vote  the  Repub- 
lican ticket.  It 's  not  his  fault  if  he  is  your  boss." 

Todd  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head.  "There's  a 
pesky  lot  of  truth  in  that,"  he  admitted  reluctantly, 
"  but  —  well,  see  here,  Mr.  Trench,  about  three 
quarters  of  the  county  's  his,  anyway,  and  the  rest  of 
it  belongs  to  men  who  've  invested  with  him  an' 
they  're  afraid  to  run  against  him." 


68  CALEB  TRENCH 

"This  Land  Company  seems  to  be  about  the  biggest 
political  engine  he  has,"  Caleb  remarked.  "Twenty- 
nine  out  of  every  thirty  tell  me  the  same  story.  Prac- 
tically, then,  Mr.  Eaton  has  n't  bought  you,  but  he  's 
got  your  money  all  in  his  control,  you  elect  his  under- 
lings and  through  them  he  governs  you,  speculates 
with  your  money,  and,  in  time,  you  '11  send  him  to 
the  United  States  Senate.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  if 
the  same  system  worked  in  the  other  States,  he  could 
be  President." 

"By  George,  so  he  could !  I  had  n't  thought  of  it," 
said  Todd,  letting  his  heavy  fist  fall  on  the  table  with 
a  force  that  made  every  article  on  it  dance.  "Mr. 
Trench,  I  want  you  to  put  that  before  the  people  up 
to  Cresset's  Corners.  There  's  going  to  be  a  town 
meeting  there  on  Friday  night.  If  you  '11  let  me, 
I  '11  post  it  In  the  post-office  that  you  '11  speak  on  the 
Republican  ticket.  You  can  just  drop  this  in  as  you 
go  along." 

Caleb  thought  hard,  drawing  a  line  on  the  table 
with  his  paper-cutter.  "  I  'm  perfectly  willing  to 
speak  for  the  Republican  ticket,"  he  said,  amused, 
"but  this  is  not  germane  to  that  subject.  If  they  ask 
questions  I  '11  answer  them,  but  I  would  n't  start  out 
to  attack  Mr.  Eaton  personally  without  grounds. 
I  've  said  all  I  want  to  say  here  and  now ;  of  course 
I  '11  say  it  over  again  in  public,  but  I  can't  throw 
Mr.  Eaton's  method  into  the  Republican  ticket." 

"I  '11  ask  all  the  questions,"  said  Todd.  "What  I 
want  is,  to  get  the  facts  out.  Everybody  's  for  Eaton 


CALEB  TRENCH  69 

because  everybody  's  scairt,  an'  really  Yarnall  's  the 
best  man  we  've  got." 

"Then  vote  for  Yarnall,"  Trench  advised  coolly. 

"He  ain't  Republican,  an'  you  want  the  Republican 
ticket,"  protested  Todd,  a  little  bewildered. 

"We  can't  elect  it,"  said  Caleb;  "even  with  the 
Democratic  Party  split,  we  can't  get  votes  enough. 
If  you  're  a  Democrat  vote  for  Yarnall." 

Todd  folded  his  tobacco  pouch  and  thrust  it  into 
his  trousers'  pocket,  with  burrowing  thoughtfulness, 
then  he  pulled  the  crease  out  of  his  waistcoat.  "  How 
many  have  you  said  that  to?"  he  asked. 

Trench  smiled.  "  To  every  man  who  has  asked  me," 
he  replied,  "the  Republican  ticket  first  and  Yarnall 
next." 

Todd  rose  and  picked  up  his  broad  hat.  "  I  reckon 
we  '11  have  Yarnall  after  all,"  he  drawled,  "  but  you  '11 
speak  Friday,  Trench?" 

Trench  nodded. 

Just  then  some  one  came  into  the  shop  with  the 
frou-frou  of  ruffled  skirts.  Caleb  went  out,  followed 
by  Shot  first  and  Todd  last.  Shot  greeted  the  new- 
comer with  uplifted  paw.  Miss  Kitty  Broughton 
bowed  and  shook  hands  with  the  dog,  laughing; 
she  was  very  pretty,  and  in  a  flowered  muslin,  with 
a  broad-brimmed  saucy  straw,  she  looked  the  incar- 
nation of  spring.  No  one  would  have  imagined  that 
she  was  a  granddaughter  of  old  Judge  Hollis  and  a 
grandniece  of  Miss  Sarah. 

She  went  up  to  the  counter  and  pushed  a  square 


70  CALEB  TRENCH 

white  envelope  across  to  Caleb.  Meanwhile,  Aaron 
Todd  had  gone  out  to  his  wagon  and  was  climbing 
into  it.  Trench  took  the  envelope,  smiling  back  into 
Miss  Kitty's  laughing  blue  eyes,  and  opened  it. 

"So  you're  'out/  are  you,  Miss  Broughton?"  he 
asked,  "or  is  this  only  the  first  alarm?" 

"It's  my  first  really  and  truly  ball,"  said  Kitty, 
"and  Aunt  Sarah  's  going  to  lead  the  Virginia  Reel !" 
She  clapped  her  hands  delightedly.  "  You  '11  come, 
Mr.  Trench?" 

"I  haven't  been  to  a  ball  in  six  years,"  replied 
Caleb,  smiling,  "  I  would  n't  know  a  soul.  You  're 
good  to  me,  Miss  Broughton,  and  I  '11  send  a  bouquet." 

"You '11  come!"  said  Kitty. 

He  shook  his  head,  still  smiling.  "Shot  would  be 
better  fun,"  he  said;  "you  mustn't  invite  shop- 
keepers, Miss  Kitty." 

Kitty  pouted,  but  a  red  streak  went  up  to  her  hair. 
She  knew  she  would  be  teased  by  her  intimates  later 
for  that  very  thing.  Yet  Caleb  was  a  gentleman,  and 
Judge  Hollis  loved  him ;  Kitty  was  not  sure  that  she 
could  not  love  him  herself  if  he  tried  to  make  her, 
but  he  never  did,  and  he  looked  as  detached  now  as  a 
pyramid  of  Egypt,  which  was  a  nettle  to  her  vanity. 

"Will  you  come?"  she  demanded,  leaning  on  the 
counter  and  nestling  her  little  round  chin  into  the 
hollow  of  her  hands.  Something  in  the  gesture  made 
him  think  of  Diana  —  if  Kitty  had  but  known  it ! 

"Can't  you  let  me  off?"  he  asked  good-naturedly. 

She  shook  her  head.    "  Please  come,"  she  said.    "  I 


CALEB  TRENCH  71 

bet  Judge  Hollis  a  dollar  that  I  'd  make  you  —  and 
I  '11  have  to  go  without  my  dollar  if  you  refuse ;  he 
swore  you  would." 

"Suppose  you  let  me  pay  the  debt,  Miss  Kitty?" 
Caleb  smiled. 

She  shook  her  head.  "Oh,  it's  more  than  the 
money,"  she  protested.  "He'll  say  I  couldn't  get 
you  to  come.  I  've  got  some  pride  about  it ;  I  hate 
to  be  laughed  at." 

"So  do  I,"  sympathized  Trench,  "and  they'll 
laugh  at  me  for  going.  They  '11  call  me  the  Yankee 
shopkeeper  —  but  I  '11  go." 

She  clapped  her  hands  delightedly.  "Really? 
Honor  bright?" 

"Honor  bright,"  he  affirmed;  "will  you  dance  with 
me,  Miss  Broughton?" 

"The  very  first  dance,"  laughed  Kitty.  "You  're 
the  captive  of  my  bow  and  spear.  You  '11  be  angry, 
too,  for  everybody  wants  to  dance  first  with  Diana 
Royall.  She  's  the  belle,  and  her  sprained  ankle  's 
well  again.  Was  it  true  that  you  carried  her  in  out  of 
the  rain?"  she  asked  curiously,  her  blue  eyes  dancing. 

"I  did  n't  know  you  gossiped,"  parried  Trench. 

"Oh,  I  love  it !"  she  protested,  "and  Diana  won't 
tell  me.  It  sounds  so  romantic,  too.  I  '11  know, 
though  —  because  you  '11  ask  her  to  dance  next  if 
you  did." 

"I  don't  think  you  will  know,"  said  Caleb. 

She  looked  across  the  counter  at  him,  her  head  on 
one  side.  "Why  won't  you  tell  me?" 


72  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Ask  Miss  Royall,"  he  suggested  quietly. 

"I  know  it 's  true  now !"  Kitty  cried. 

"  Go  home  and  mind  your  own  business,  you  minx ! " 
said  Judge  Hollis,  suddenly  appearhig,  his  large  figure 
filling  the  door.  "Don't  let  her  waste  your  time, 
Caleb,  —  the  idlest  little  girl  in  the  county." 

"I  've  won  my  dollar !"  cried  Kitty,  presenting  an 
ungloved  little  hand,  the  pink  palm  up;  "pay  your 
debts,  sir." 

The  judge  laughed  and  drew  out  a  silver  dollar. 
"Are  you  going,  Caleb?"  he  asked.  "I  won't  pay 
till  I  'm  certain;  the  baggage  fleeces  me." 

"I've  promised,"  said  Caleb,  smiling;  "she  's 
fairly  earned  it,  Judge." 

"There  it  is,  miss,"  said  the  judge  and  kissed  her. 
"Now  go  home!" 

Kitty  laughed.  "I  can't,"  she  said,  "I've  got  a 
dollar  more  to  spend  at  Eshcol.  I  'm  going  into 
town.  Good-bye,  and  be  sure  you  come,  Mr.  Trench." 

"He  will,"  said  the  judge  firmly,  "or  you  '11  refund 
that  dollar." 

"I'll  go,  Miss  Broughton,"  Caleb  said,  though  in 
his  heart  he  dreaded  it ;  he  had  a  proud  man's  aver- 
sion to  meeting  discourtesy  from  those  who  despised 
his  poverty,  and  he  had  observed  the  red  when  it 
stained  Kitty's  cheek.  But,  after  all,  it  was  a  small 
matter,  he  reflected;  to  one  of  Caleb's  habits  of 
thought  the  social  part  of  life  was  a  small  matter. 
Yet  it  is  the  small  things  which  prick  until  the  blood 
comes. 


VII 

A  WEEK   from   that  day   Caleb   Trench  ad- 
dressed a  crowd  of  backwoodsmen  and  some 
of  the  Eshcol  farmers  at  the  town  hall  at 
Cresset's  Corners.    Even  if  a  reporter  had  not  been 
there,  it  would  have  passed  by  word  of  mouth  all 
over  the  county,  and,  later,  through  the  State. 

There  are  moments  when  the  eloquence  of  man 
consists  in  telling  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth.  The  fact  that  the  country- 
men had  not  heard  it  for  nearly  fifteen  years  clothed 
it  with  spell-binding  powers.  For  half  an  hour  Caleb 
Trench  talked  to  them  with  extraordinary  simplicity 
and  directness ;  when  he  had  finished  they  knew  how 
they  were  governed  and  why.  He  had  the  power  of 
making  his  argument  clear  to  the  humblest,  and  yet 
convincing  to  the  most  learned,  which  is  the  power 
that  men  call  persuasion.  In  that  half-hour  they  found 
that  they  had  raised  up  the  Golden  Calf  themselves, 
and  that  it  had  smitten  them.  Jacob  Eaton  suddenly 
appeared  like  a  huge  spider  whose  golden  web  had 
immeshed  the  entire  State,  while  they  themselves 
were  hung  in  it  like  wounded  flies.  Yet,  j'esterday, 
Jacob  Eaton  had  been  a  young  man  of  fine  family 
and  immense  influence.  That  night  they  went  home 


74  CALEB  TRENCH 

disputing  and  lay  awake,  in  the  agonies  of  reflection, 
trying  to  find  a  way  to  withdraw  themselves  from  his 
investments;  that  they  could  not  find  it  involved 
them  in  still  deeper  distress.  All  this  while,  the 
figure  of  Caleb  Trench  began  to  stand  out  sharply 
and  suddenly,  like  the  silhouette  thrown  on  the  sheet 
by  the  lamp  of  the  stereopticon. 

He  made  no  effort  to  keep  himself  before  them; 
having  told  them  the  truth,  he  acted  as  if  he  had  per- 
formed his  mission  and  went  about  his  own  business, 
which  was  chiefly,  just  then,  keeping  shop  and  read- 
ing law  only  at  night.  The  summer  trade  was  on,  the 
roads  were  good,  and  customers  more  plentiful  than 
clients. 

Thursday  night  was  the  date  of  Kitty  Broughton's 
ball ;  Wednesday,  of  the  previous  week,  brought  Caleb 
his  first  client.  The  two  events  afterwards  fixed  many 
things  in  his  memory,  for  at  this  time  he  was  trying 
to  forget  that  Miss  Royall  had  ever  sat  in  his  old  arm- 
chair by  the  stove.  The  peculiarly  haunting  qualities 
of  some  individuals,  who  are  not  spooks,  is  past  expla- 
nation. Caleb  felt  that  there  was  no  more  pricking 
misery  than  to  see  eternally  one  face  and  one  figure 
in  his  favorite  chair,  when  neither  of  them  could  ever 
possibly  belong  there,  and  it  was  to  his  interest  to  for- 
get them.  There  should  be,  by  the  way,  a  method 
for  exorcising  such  ghosts  and  compelling  their  right- 
ful owners  to  keep  them  labeled  in  a  locked  cabinet 
instead  of  projecting  them  upon  the  innocent  and  the 
defenseless.  Caleb's  method  consisted,  at  present,  in 


CALEB  TRENCH  75 

turning  the  old  chair  upside  down  in  the  closet  back 
of  the  kitchen,  which  ought  to  have  discouraged  any 
self-respecting  ghost,  yet  Wednesday  morning  he  got 
it  out  again  and  put  it  reverently  in  its  place,  with  a 
sheepish  feeling  of  having  committed  a  crime  in  try- 
ing to  dishonor  it. 

It  was  after  the  ceremony  of  restoration  that 
Juniper  arrived  with  a  long  face.  He  had  been  tem- 
porarily reconciled  to  Aunt  Charity  and  was  shoulder- 
ing her  chief  responsibility,  her  son  Lysander. 

"De  jedge,  he  sent  me  down  ter  see  yo',  suh," 
Juniper  explained,  twisting  his  battered  hat  as  usual. 
"I'se  in  a  po'erful  lot  ob  trouble  an'  so  ez  de  ole 
woman." 

Caleb  moved  a  little  impatiently.  "The  silver  tea- 
pot?" he  asked  dryly. 

"No,"  said  Juniper,  without  embarrassment,  "no, 
suh;  de  folks  up  ter  de  Corners  ez  gwine  ter  hab 
Lysander  'rested.  I  reckon  dey  hez  had  him  'rested 
a'ready.  Dey  says  he  dun  stole  der  chickens  on 
Monday.  Et  wuz  de  dark  ob  de  moon,  suh,  an'  dat 
make  it  seem  ez  if  dey  got  er  case.  De  jedge,  he 
tole  me  ter  come  ter  yo'." 

Caleb  felt  that  Judge  Hollis  was  enjoying  his  first 
case.  He  almost  heard  the  shouts  of  Homeric  laughter 
from  that  inner  office.  "  You  '11  have  to  prove  that 
he  did  n't  steal  the  chickens,"  he  said.  "In  the  first 
place,  who  are  the  people?" 

"Mr.  Todd's  folks,"  Juniper  replied,  "an'  dey  see 
et  wuz  two  pullets  an'  er  cockerel." 


76  CALEB  TRENCH 

Trench  knew  where  Aaron  Todd  lived  and  recalled, 
less  vividly,  the  presence  of  a  large  chicken-yard. 
"How  do  they  suppose  he  could  have  carried  them 
off  undiscovered,  even  at  night?"  Caleb  argued.  "If 
I  remember  where  the  chicken-yard  is,  you  could  hear 
a  commotion  among  the  fowls  at  any  time,  particu- 
larly at  night.  It  will  be  a  simple  matter,  Juniper, 
when  we  prove  an  alibi." 

Juniper  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head  thoughtfully. 
"Dat's  so,  suh,"  he  replied;  "I  'low  dat  I  don' 
wanter  pay  his  fine,  an'  Charity,  she  don' ;  she  sho' 
won't  pay  et  bekase  she  say  I  oughter,  an'  ef  Lysander 
goes  up  fo'  sixty  days  an'  works  on  de  roads,  he  ain't 
gwine  ter  do  anodder  stroke  all  de  year ;  dat 's  Ly- 
sander; I  knows  'im." 

"What  time  do  they  say  the  chickens  were  stolen?" 

" Monday  mawnin',  'bout  two  o'clock."  Uncle  Juni- 
per rubbed  his  sleeve  thoughtfully  across  his  forehead. 

"Then  we  must  prove  an  alibi,"  said  Caleb,  swing- 
ing around  in  his  chair  to  view  his  client  more  directly. 
"The  point  is  clear;  where  was  Lysander  at  two 
o'clock  Monday  morning?" 

"  I  specks  he  wuz  up  dar,  suh,"  said  Jumper  cheer- 
fully. "  He  ain't  let  on  ter  me  dat  he  wuz  anywhere 
else." 

Caleb  got  up  abruptly  and  threw  open  the  door 
into  the  shop;  he  had  seen  Colonel  Royall  coming. 
Then  he  dashed  off  a  note  to  Aaron  Todd,  enclosing 
a  cheque  for  the  two  pullets  and  the  cockerel,  and 
gave  it  to  Juniper. 


CALEB  TRENCH  77 

"Take  that  up  to  the  Corners,"  he  said  briefly, 
"and  I  think  Lysander  will  get  off  without  arrest, 
but  tell  him  if  he  steals  any  more  I  '11  thrash  him." 

"  Yes,  suh,"  said  Juniper,  expectant  but  unbelieving. 

Later,  however,  when  Todd  took  the  money  and  let 
Lysander  off,  he  was  convinced,  and,  like  all  new  con- 
verts, he  became  a  zealot,  and  went  about  telling  of 
the  miracles  wrought  by  the  new  lawyer.  Thus  did 
Caleb's  fame  go  abroad  in  the  byways  and  alleys, 
which  is,  after  all,  the  road  to  celebrity. 

Meanwhile,  Colonel  Royall,  very  inconsiderately, 
sat  in  Diana's  chair.  He  had  heard  of  the  speech  at 
Cresset's  Corners,  and  knew  that  Trench  was  support- 
ing Yarnall  for  the  Democratic  nomination.  Yet  the 
colonel  admired  Trench,  the  force  of  whose  convic- 
tions was  already  bearing  fruit. 

Eight  weeks  before,  Colonel  Royall  had  made  a 
formal  call  on  Caleb  to  thank  him  for  his  courtesy 
and  service  to  Diana.  He  was  a  Southern  gentleman 
of  the  old  school,  and  he  had  done  it  without  allowing 
even  a  drop  of  condescension  in  his  manner.  More- 
over, he  liked  Trench  and  was  trying  to  put  together 
the  modesty  of  the  man,  who  had  colored  at  his  ac- 
knowledgments, with  the  incendiary  ability  that 
could  rouse  and  hold  a  meeting  of  backwoodsmen  on 
a  subject  that  was  as  foreign  to  their  understanding 
as  it  was  alarming.  Admitted,  for  the  first  time,  into 
the  inner  office,  the  colonel  gazed  about  with  almost 
as  much  curiosity  as  Diana,  and  he  drew  conclusions 
not  unlike  hers,  but  more  pregnant  with  the  truth. 


78  CALEB  TRENCH 

The  colonel's  own  face  in  repose  was  infinitely  sad, 
yet  when  he  spoke  and  laughed  his  expression  was 
almost  happy.  But  he  had  been  twenty  years  turn- 
ing the  key  on  his  inner  self,  and  the  result  was  an 
exterior  that  reminded  an  observer  of  an  alabaster 
chalice  in  which  the  throbbing  pulse  of  life  lay  clasped 
and  all  but  crystallized.  His  face  in  repose  had  almost 
the  sweetness  of  a  woman's,  and  only  when  the  blue 
eyes  blazed  with  sudden  wrath  was  there  ever  cause 
to  fear  him.  That  he  was  a  dreamer  of  dreams  was 
apparent  at  a  glance ;  that  he  could  keep  an  unhappy 
secret  twenty  years  seemed  more  improbable.  He 
leaned  back  in  his  chair,  clasping  his  hands  on  top  of 
the  stout  hickory  stick  he  carried. 

"Mr.  Trench,"  he  said  slowly,  with  his  Southern 
drawl,  "I  congratulate  you  on  your  success  in 
politics." 

Caleb  turned  red.  He  was  aware  of  the  universal 
prejudice  against  his  politics  in  Colonel  Royall's  class. 
"Thank  you,  Colonel,"  he  said  formally,  rising  to 
look  for  glasses  in  his  cupboard.  "I  can't  offer  you 
fine  old  wine,  sir,  but  I  have  some  Kentucky  whiskey 
that  Judge  Hollis  sent  me." 

"After  the  speech  at  Cresset's?"  The  corners  of 
the  colonel's  mouth  twitched. 

Caleb  poured  out  the  whiskey  and  handed  the  glass 
to  his  guest.  "You  know  the  judge  well,  sir,"  he  re- 
marked, and  his  composure  under  the  jest  won  upon 
the  colonel. 

He  tasted  the  whiskey  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur. 


CALEB  TRENCH  79 

"In  Virginia,  Mr.  Trench,  we  should  make  this  into 
juleps,"  he  said  appreciatively;  "the  judge  was  raised 
in  the  Kentucky  mountains  and  he  knows  a  good  thing 
when  he  sees  it.  I  read  the  report  of  your  speech,  sir, 
and  I  admired  it,  but  "  —  the  colonel  let  his  hand  fall 
a  little  heavily  on  the  arm  of  the  chair  where  Diana's 
elbow  had  rested,  —  he  little  knew  the  enormity  of 
his  action  —  "if  I  thought  it  was  all  true  I  should 
have  to  change  my  coat.  I  don't  —  but  I  believe 
you  do." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Trench  quietly,  "I  do." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  Colonel  Royall;  "then  you 
did  right,  but  you've  made  more  enemies  than  you 
could  shake  a  stick  at.  Jacob  Eaton 's  my  cousin,  a 
young  man  yet,  but  mighty  clever,  and  I  reckon  he  '11 
remember  all  you  said.  There  is  n't  any  call  for  me 
to  resent  things  for  Jacob !  No,  sir,  I  honor  you  for 
your  courage,  if  those  are  your  convictions,  but 
Yarnall  can't  be  elected  here." 

"I  think  he  can,  Colonel,"  Caleb  replied,  un- 
moved. The  lines  about  his  mouth  straightened  a 
little  and  there  was  a  glint  in  his  gray  eyes;  other- 
wise his  composure  was  unruffled. 

Colonel  Royall  set  down  his  empty  glass  and 
waved  aside  the  proffered  bottle.  "No  more,  sir, 
it 's  too  good  to  be  safe ;  like  most  fine  things,  a  little 
goes  a  long  way.  What  makes  you  think  you  can 
nominate  Yarnall?  Of  course  you  can't  elect  a  Re- 
publican, so  I  see  your  point  in  trying  to  influence 
the  Democrats.  By  gum,  sir,  it's  the  first  time  it's 


80  CALEB  TRENCH 

been  attempted,  and  it's  knocked  the  organization 
into  splinters;  they're  standing  around  waiting  to  see 
what  you'll  do  next!"  The  colonel  laughed  softly. 

"They'll  nominate  Yarnall  and  they'll  elect  him," 
said  Caleb;  "Aylett  can't  get  two  votes  out  of  ten. 
I'm  sorry  to  go  against  your  candidate,  Colonel," 
he  added,  smiling. 

"Eh?"  said  the  colonel;  he  was,  in  fact,  suddenly 
aware  of  the  charm  of  Caleb's  rare  smile.  He  had 
not  known  that  the  man  could  smile  like  that. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  appear  an  interloper  in  a  fenced,  no- 
trespass  field,"  Caleb  continued  pleasantly.  "I'm 
a  Republican,  of  course,  and"  —  his  eyes  twinkled  — 
"something  of  a  Yankee,  but,  as  we  can't  elect  a 
Republican,  you  must  forgive  me  for  choosing  the 
less  instead  of  the  greater  evil." 

Colonel  Royall  picked  up  his  broad-brimmed 
Panama  and  twirled  it  thoughtfully  on  the  top  of 
his  stick.  "What's  your  objection  to  Aylett?"  he 
asked  meditatively. 

Trench  was  momentarily  embarrassed,  then  he 
plunged  boldly.  "In  the  parlance,  we  would  call 
him  a  machine  man,"  he  said;  "he  was  elected  by 
the  same  system  that  has  ruled  this  State  for  years; 
he 's  bound  hand  and  foot  to  it,  and  his  reelection 
means  —  a  continuance  of  the  present  conditions." 

It  was  now  Colonel  Royall's  turn  to  smile.  "You 
mean  a  continuance  of  Jacob  Eaton?  Well,  I  expect 
it  will,  and  I  don't  know  but  what  it 's  a  good  thing. 
You  have  n't  converted  me  to  your  heresy,  Mr. 


CALEB  TRENCH  81 

Trench,  but  I've  tasted  of  your  hospitality,  and  if 
you  don't  come  and  taste  mine  I'll  feel  it  a  disgrace. 
Why  have  you  not  come  to  see  me,  sir?  I  asked  you 
when  I  came  here  to  acknowledge  your  courtesy  to 
my  daughter." 

Trench  reddened  again.  "I'm  coming,  Colonel," 
he  said  at  once,  "but"  —  he  hesitated  —  "are  you 
sure  that  a  man  of  my  political  faith  will  be  entirely 
welcome?" 

Colonel  Royall  straightened  himself.  "Sir,  Mr. 
Eaton  does  not  choose  my  guests.  I  appreciate  your 
feeling  and  understand  it.  I  shall  be  happy,  sir,  to 
see  you  next  Sunday  afternoon,"  and  he  bowed 
formally,  having  risen  to  his  full  height. 

Caleb  took  his  proffered  hand  heartily,  and  walked 
with  him  to  the  door.  Yet  he  did  not  altogether 
relish  the  thought  of  a  call  at  Broad  Acres;  he  re- 
membered too  vividly  his  visit  there  to  refund  Diana's 
money,  and  reddened  at  the  thought  of  a  certain  re- 
ceipt which  he  still  carried  in  his  pocket.  He  had 
set  out  to  restore  her  change  because  he  did  not 
wish  her  to  think  she  had  been  overcharged,  and 
it  was  not  until  he  had  fairly  embarked  upon  the  in- 
terview that  he  had  regretted  not  sending  it  by  mail, 
and  had  reached  a  point  where  stealing  it  would 
have  seemed  a  virtue!  The  fact  that  the  Broad 
Acres  people  seldom,  if  ever,  came  to  his  shop  had 
made  its  return  in  the  natural  course  of  events  doubt- 
ful, and  the  matter  had  seemed  to  him  simple  and 
direct  until  Diana  met  it.  The  Quaker  in  him  re- 

6 


82  CALEB  TRENCH 

ceived  its  first  shock  that  night,  and  he  recoiled 
from  giving  them  another  opportunity  to  mortify 
his  pride.  Before  that  he  had  regarded  Miss  Royall 
as  supremely  and  graciously  beautiful;  since  then 
he  had  realized  that  she  could  be  both  thoughtless 
and  cruel. 

He  stood  in  his  door  watching  the  old  colonel's 
erect  figure  walking  up  the  long  road  under  the 
shadow  of  the  great  trees  that  lined  it  at  intervals. 
There  was  something  at  once  stately  and  appealing 
in  the  old  man's  aspect,  yet  there  was  power  in  his 
eyes  and  the  pose  of  his  white  head.  He  reminded 
Caleb  of  an  old  lion,  sorely  stricken  but  magnificent ; 
some  wound  had  gone  deep.  As  yet  the  younger 
man  had  no  notion  of  it ;  when  he  did  know  he  mar- 
veled much  at  the  strange  mingling  of  knight- 
errantry  and  tenderness  in  the  breast  of  one  of 
Nature's  noblemen.  As  it  was,  he  was  supremely 
conscious  that  he  liked  Colonel  Royall  and  that 
Colonel  Royall  liked  him,  but  that  the  colonel  was 
vividly  aware  that  the  shopkeeper  at  the  Cross- 
Roads  was  not  his  social  equal ;  Caleb  wondered  bit- 
terly if  he  went  further,  and  considered  that  the 
gentleman  of  good  blood  and  breeding  was  his  equal 
when  in  law  and  politics? 

He  turned  from  the  door  with  a  whimsical  smile 
and  patted  his  dog's  uplifted  head ;  then,  as  his  eyes 
lighted  on  the  worn  leather  chair  in  which  the  colonel 
had  just  sat,  he  turned  it  abruptly  to  the  wall. 


vm 

BEFORE  Sunday  Caleb's  settlement  of  his  first 
case  was  celebrated  in  Eshcol.  Judge  Hollis 
got  the  facts  from  Jumper  and  spread  the 
story  abroad.  It  was  too  good  to  keep.  The  cockerel 
was  valued  at  three  dollars,  being  rare,  and  the  pul- 
lets cost  seventy-five  cents  each.  The  attorney  for 
the  defendant  had  paid  the  costs  without  pleading 
the  case  at  the  bar. 

The  judge  asked  if  he  intended  to  settle  all  diffi- 
culties on  the  same  plane?  If  so,  he  could  send  him 
enough  clients  to  form  a  line  down  the  Mississippi 
from  St.  Louis  to  New  Orleans.  Juniper  was  telling 
it  too,  without  grasping  the  judge's  point  of  view. 
As  a  lawyer,  Juniper  claimed  that  Caleb  Trench 
could  out-Herod  Herod.  He  protested  that  the  mere 
paying  for  the  fowls  had  saved  Lysander  from  being 
tarred  and  feathered;  for  Aaron  Todd's  indignant 
threats  were  magnified  by  memory,  and  no  one  but 
Mr.  Trench  would  have  thought  of  so  simple  and 
efficacious  a  remedy. 

The  settlement  of  Lysander's  difficulties  coming 
after  the  famed  Cresset  speech  created  a  sensation 
between  wrath  and  merriment  among  Caleb's  political 
opponents.  What  manner  of  man  was  he?  Caleb 


84  CALEB  TRENCH 

Trench,  Quaker,  posted  on  his  door  might  have  ex- 
plained him  to  some,  but  to  the  majority  it  would 
have  remained  Greek.  Besides,  Caleb  was  not  ortho- 
dox; he  had  always  leaned  to  his  mother's  religion, 
and  she  had  been  an  Episcopalian;  between  the  two 
creeds  he  had  found  no  middle  course,  but  he  had  a 
profound  respect  for  the  faith  that  brought  Diana 
to  her  knees  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child  in  the  little 
old  gray  stone  church  where  the  new  curate  had  in- 
stalled a  boy  choir. 

It  was  long  past  church  time,  and  after  the  early 
Sunday  dinner,  when  he  sat  on  the  porch  with  Colonel 
Royall  at  Broad  Acres.  The  colonel  was  a  delightful 
host,  and  this  time  he  did  not  discuss  politics;  he 
talked,  instead,  about  his  father's  plantation  in  Vir- 
ginia before  the  war,  a  subject  as  safe  as  the  Satires 
of  Horace,  yet  Trench  fidgeted  a  little  in  his  chair. 
He  was  conscious  that  Diana  was  passing  through 
the  hall  behind  him,  and  that,  after  her  first  cor- 
rectly courteous  greeting,  she  had  avoided  the  piazza. 
He  was,  in  fact,  distinctly  the  colonel's  guest. 

Diana  was  more  vividly  aware  of  social  distinc- 
tions than  her  father,  and  less  forgetful  of  them ;  she 
was  only  twenty-three,  and  the  time  was  not  yet 
when  she  could  forgive  a  man  for  doing  anything 
and  everything  to  earn  his  bread.  There  were  so 
many  ways,  she  thought,  that  did  not  embrace  the 
village  yardstick!  Besides,  she  rather  resented  the 
Cresset  speech.  Jacob  Eaton  was  her  cousin,  three 
times  removed  it  was  true,  but  still  her  cousin,  and 


CALEB  TRENCH  85 

that  held.  Diana  could  not  reconcile  herself  to  the 
freedom  of  political  attacks,  and  Caleb  Trench's 
cool,  unbiased  criticisms  of  Eaton  and  his  methods 
seemed  to  her  to  be  mere  personalities,  and  she  had 
gone  as  far  as  quarreling  with  the  colonel  for  asking 
him  to  call. 

"I  don't  like  his  attack  on  Jacob,  pa,"  she  had 
said  hotly;  "he's  no  gentleman  to  make  it!" 

The  colonel  meditated,  his  eyes  twinkling.  "He's 
a  good  deal  of  a  man  though,  Di." 

And  Diana  had  turned  crimson,  though  she  did 
not  know  why,  unless  she  remembered  suddenly  her 
own  impression  of  him  in  his  little  office,  when  the 
flare  of  the  burning  wood  fell  on  his  face.  All  these 
things  made  her  angry  and  she  had  received  him 
with  an  air  that  reminded  Trench  of  the  receipt  for 
six  cents,  yet  Diana  was  superbly  courteous.  Neither 
Mrs.  Eaton  nor  Jacob  appeared;  they  lived  about 
three  miles  away,  and  Mrs.  Eaton  had  refused  abso- 
lutely to  visit  Cousin  David  on  Sunday  if  he  intended 
to  entertain  the  lower  classes.  She  had  only  a  very 
nebulous  idea  of  the  political  situation,  but  she 
thought  that  Trench  had  vilified  Jacob. 

But  with  the  colonel  Caleb  was  happily  at  home; 
even  the  colonel's  slow  drawl  was  music  in  his  ears, 
and  he  liked  the  man,  the  repose  of  his  manner,  the 
kindly  glance  of  his  sad  eyes,  for  his  eyes  were  sad 
and  tender  as  a  woman's.  Yet  Colonel  Roy  all  had 
shot  a  man  for  a  just  cause  thirty  years  before,  and 
it  was  known  that  he  carried  and  could  use  his  re- 


86  CALEB  TRENCH 

volver  still.  The  fire  of  the  old-time  gentleman 
sometimes  sent  the  quick  blood  up  under  his  skin 
and  kindled  his  glance,  but  his  slow  courtesy  made 
him  ever  mindful  of  others.  Sitting  together,  with 
the  sun  slanting  across  the  lawns  and  the  arch  of  the 
horse-chestnuts  shadowing  the  driveway,  Caleb  told 
the  colonel  the  story  of  his  father's  failure  and,  more 
lightly,  something  of  his  own  struggles.  Then  he 
got  down  to  reading  law  with  Judge  Hollis. 

"A  pretty  costly  business  for  you,  sir,"  the  colonel 
said  wickedly,  and  then  laughed  until  the  blue  veins 
stood  out  on  his  forehead. 

Caleb  laughed  too,  but  colored  a  little.  "Jumper 
is  an  old  rogue,"  he  said  amusedly.  "I  should  have 
bribed  him  to  hold  his  tongue." 

Colonel  Royall  straightened  his  face  and  rubbed 
his  eyeglasses  on  a  dollar  bill,  which,  he  held,  was  the 
only  way  to  clean  them.  "Lysander  is  the  rogue," 
he  said,  "and  old  Aunt  Charity  has  been  known  to 
steal  Juniper's  clothes  for  him  to  wear.  She  dressed 
him  in  Juniper's  best  last  year  and  sent  him  to  the 
fair  with  all  the  money  from  her  washing.  Mean- 
while the  old  man  had  nothing  but  his  blue  jeans 
and  a  cotton  undershirt,  and  wanted  to  go  to  the 
fair,  too.  There  was  a  great  row.  Of  course  Lysander 
got  drunk  and  was  sent  up  for  thirty  days  in  Juni- 
per's Sunday  clothes.  Lordy ! "  the  colonel  laughed 
heartily,  "you  could  hear  the  noise  down  at  the  em- 
bankment. Juniper  wanted  a  'divorcement'  and  his 
clothes,  principally  his  clothes.  Judge  Hollis  and  I 


CALEB  TRENCH  87 

had  to  fit  him  out,  but  he  and  Aunt  Charity  did  n't 
speak  until  there  was  another  funeral ;  that  brings 
niggers  together  every  time;  there's  a  chaste  joy 
about  a  funeral  that  melts  their  hearts." 

The  colonel  laughed  again  reminiscently,  but 
Caleb,  being  a  young  man  and  human,  was  aware 
that  Diana  had  crossed  the  hall  again,  and  that  she 
must  have  heard  her  father  laughing  at  him.  It  was 
not  long  after  this  that  he  made  his  adieux,  and  he 
did  not  ask  to  see  Miss  Royall.  The  colonel  walked 
with  him  to  the  gate  and  pointed  out  the  magnificent 
promise  of  grapes  on  his  vines. 

"It  will  be  a  plentiful  season,  Mr.  Trench,"  he 
said,  "and  I  hope  a  good  harvest ;  let  us  have  peace." 

Caleb  understood  the  tentative  appeal,  and  he 
liked  the  old  man,  but  to  a  nature  like  Trench's  truth 
is  the  sling  of  David ;  he  must  smite  Goliath.  "Colonel 
Royall,"  he  said,  "no  man  desires  peace  more  than  I 
do,  but  —  peace  with  honor." 

Colonel  Royall  stood  in  the  center  of  his  own  gate- 
way, his  thumbs  in  the  armholes  of  his  waistcoat, 
his  white  head  bare.  "Mr.  Trench,"  he  said,  "I  un- 
derstand that  we  are  not  to  have  peace." 

Thursday  night  Kitty  Broughton  gave  her  ball. 
Her  father  was  dead,  and  Judge  Hollis  stood  beside 
her  mother  to  help  Kitty  receive  her  guests.  Every- 
body who  was  anybody  in  the  city  came  out,  and  all 
Eshcol  was  there.  Mrs.  Eaton  declared  that  it  was 
the  most  mixed  affair  she  ever  saw,  when  she  recog- 
nized Caleb  Trench.  She  told  all  her  friends  not  to 


88  CALEB  TRENCH 

allow  any  presuming  person  to  present  him  to  her, 
and  in  an  hour  she  had  made  all  the  guests  painfully 
aware  that  there  was  a  black  sheep  in  the  fold.  Then 
Kitty  Broughton  added  fuel  to  the  fire  by  dancing 
the  first  dance  with  him,  and  it  was  discovered,  by  all 
the  girls  present,  that  he  danced  exceedingly  well, 
and  quite  as  if  he  had  always  gone  to  entertainments. 
This  surprised  those  who  criticized  Mrs.  Broughton 
for  asking  him ;  yet  not  to  have  had  him  would  have 
been  to  have  the  banquet  without  the  salt.  For 
Jacob  Eaton  was  there,  too,  and  though  he  wore  an 
inscrutable  face,  it  was  exciting  to  wonder  how  he 
felt,  and  what  would  happen  if  they  met? 

Meanwhile,  the  dancing  went  on,  and  Mrs.  Brough- 
ton had  presented  Trench  to  several  of  the  young 
girls  from  the  city,  who  admired  his  dancing,  so  he 
had  partners;  but  he  was  aware  of  the  frigidity  of 
the  atmosphere  and  he  had  not  asked  Miss  Royall 
to  dance.  Instead,  Diana  had  danced  twice  with 
her  cousin  and  once  with  young  Jack  Cheyney,  a 
nephew  of  the  doctor.  She  was  very  beautiful. 
Trench  looked  across  the  ballroom  at  her  and  thought 
that  no  sculptured  figure  of  nymph  or  dryad  had  ever 
excelled  the  beauty  of  her  tall  young  figure,  its  slender 
but  perfect  lines,  and  the  proud  pose  of  her  head. 
She  wore  a  white  brocade  flowered  with  pink,  like 
apple-blossoms,  and  Trench  thought  of  her  and  the 
spring  buds  in  his  lonely  office.  The  splendid  diamond 
that  shone  like  a  star  above  her  forehead  reminded 
him  of  the  wide  divergence  in  their  fates. 


CALEB  TRENCH  89 

Judge  Hollis  found  him  and  laid  a  fatherly  hand 
on  his  shoulder.  "Glad  to  see  you  out,  Caleb,"  he 
said  heartily;  "a  change  will  do  you  good.  Mouldy 
old  law  books  and  old  men  pall  on  a  young  fellow  like 
you.  I  saw  you  lead  off  with  Kitty.  The  minx  is 
pretty  and  dances  well.  Have  you  asked  Diana  to 
dance?" 

"No,"  said  Trench;  "Miss  Royall  has  too  many 
partners  to  accept  another,  I  fancy." 

"Better  ask  her,"  counseled  the  judge;  "the  lady 
is  something  of  a  tyrant.  Don't  get  on  her  black 
books  too  early,  sir;  besides,  courtesy  demands  it. 
Did  n't  she  accept  your  care  and  hospitality?" 

"She  had  to,"  said  Trench  dryly. 

"Precisely,"  smiled  the  judge;  "now  ask  her  to 
dance  and  give  her  the  chance  to  say  '  no, '  then  she  '11 
forgive  you." 

"I  fancy  there  are  more  things  to  forgive  than 
that,"  replied  Caleb  musingly;  "Mrs.  Eaton  has  let 
me  feel  the  weight  of  my  social  position." 

"My  dear  boy,  Jinny  is  the  biggest  cad  in  the 
world,"  said  the  judge,  drinking  a  glass  of  punch; 
"go  and  do  as  I  tell  you  or  I'll  drop  your  ac- 
quaintance. By  the  way,  Caleb,  how  much  are 
cockerels  now?"  and  the  old  man's  laughter  drew  all 
eyes. 

But  it  was  after  supper  that,  very  much  against 
his  determinations,  Caleb  found  himself  asking  Diana 
to  dance.  He  has  never  known  how  it  happened, 
unless  it  was  the  compelling  power  of  her  beauty  in 


90  CALEB  TRENCH 

the  corner  of  the  ballroom  when  the  music  began 
again. 

"May  I  have  the  honor?"  he  asked. 

Diana  hesitated  the  twentieth  part  of  a  second; 
it  was  almost  imperceptible,  but  it  sent  the  blood 
to  the  young  man's  forehead.  Then  she  smiled 
graciously.  "With  pleasure,"  she  said  in  a  clear 
voice. 

It  happened  that  they  swept  past  Eaton,  her  skirt 
brushing  against  him,  and  in  another  moment  they 
were  going  down  the  old  ballroom  together.  All  eyes 
followed  them  and  returned  to  Jacob  Eaton,  who 
was  standing  discomfited  for  an  instant.  It  was  only 
one  instant;  the  next  Jacob  was  more  suave  and 
smiling  than  ever,  and  an  heiress  from  Lexington 
danced  with  him.  However,  in  that  one  instant,  his 
face  had  startled  the  groups  nearest  him.  People 
suddenly  remembered  that  it  was  said  that  Eaton 
carried  firearms  at  all  times,  and  was  one  of  the 
straightest  shots  that  side  of  the  Mississippi. 

Later,  when  Diana  was  driving  home  with  her 
father,  she  spoke  her  mind.  "I  wish  you'd  make 
Jacob  Eaton  behave  himself,  pa,"  she  said;  "he  acts 
as  if  I  belonged  to  him  and  he  could  choose  my  —  my 
friends !  I  don't  like  his  manners  up  at  Broad  Acres, 
either;  he  said  the  other  day  that  the  cold  grapery 
should  be  pulled  down,  and  that  he  didn't  believe 
in  owning  a  race-horse." 

Colonel  Royall  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head  thought- 
fully ;  his  eyes  were  troubled. 


CALEB  TRENCH  91 

"His  manners  are  becoming  insufferable,"  Diana 
went  on,  without  heeding  the  silence. 

"If  he's  rude  to  you,  Diana,"  the  colonel  said 
quietly,  "just  say  so  and  I'll  thrash  him." 

"I  sometimes  wish  you  would!"  she  retorted 
wrathfully,  and  then,  reaching  up  in  the  dim  carriage, 
she  patted  the  colonel's  cheek.  "  You  're  an  old  dear," 
she  said  fondly,  "but  you  do  get  imposed  on,  and 
Jacob  never  does!" 


IX 

DR.  CHEYNEY'S  old  gig  traveled  up  the  hill 
just  behind  Mrs.  Eaton's  carriage,  and  both 
turned  into  the  gateway  of  Broad  Acres. 

That  was  the  morning  after  Kitty  Broughton's 
ball.  The  doctor  had  not  been  there,  having  had  a 
bad  case  on  his  hands  in  Eshcol,  and  he  was  full  of 
excitement  over  a  new  review  of  the  Cresset  speech 
published  in  New  York,  in  a  great  metropolitan  daily. 
It  seemed  that  Caleb  Trench  was  going  to  be  cele- 
brated and  old  William  Cheyney  had  championed 
him.  He  had  the  paper  in  his  pocket  and  wanted  to 
show  it  to  Colonel  Royall,  but  there  was  Mrs.  Eaton, 
and  when  the  doctor  climbed  down  from  his  high 
seat  she  was  already  delivering  her  opinion  to  Diana 
and  her  father,  and  she  did  not  suppress  it  on  account 
of  Dr.  Cheyney. 

"I  can't  imagine  what  has  come  over  you,  Colonel 
Royall!"  that  lady  was  saying  with  great  indigna- 
tion; "you  must  be  out  of  your  senses  to  allow  Diana 
to  dance  in  public  with  a  common  shopkeeper,  a  — 
a  kind  of  hoodlum,  too!" 

This  was  too  much  for  Dr.  Cheyney,  who  shook 
with  silent  laughter;  and  there  was  a  twinkle  in 
Colonel  Royall's  eye. 

"My  dear  Jinny,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "have  you 


CALEB  TRENCH  93 

lived  all  these  years  without  knowing  that  it 's  Diana 
who  bosses  me?" 

"I  call  it  a  shameful  exhibition,"  continued  Mrs. 
Eaton  hotly.  "I  never  have  believed  in  mixing  the 
classes  —  never !  And  to  see  my  own  cousin,  and  a 
young  girl  at  that,  dancing  with  that  —  that  fellow ! 
As  far  as  it  looked  to  other  people,  too,  she  en- 
joyed it." 

"Did  you,  Diana?"  queried  Dr.  Cheyney  mildly, 
standing  with  his  hands  hi  his  pockets,  and  a  queer 
smile  on  his  puckered  old  face. 

"  I  did,"  said  Diana,  very  red. 

"Whoopee!"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  and  went  off 
into  convulsions  of  laughter. 

Mrs.  Eaton's  wrath  passed  all  bounds.  "At  your 
age,"  she  said  loftily  to  Diana,  "I  should  have  been 
ashamed  to  confess  it." 

"I  am,"  said  Diana. 

"I  'm  truly  glad  of  it!"  cried  Mrs.  Eaton. 

"Let 's  get  the  stuffing  out  of  it,  Jinny,"  suggested 
the  colonel  mildly. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton 
stiffly.  "I  should  call  that  an  extremely  vulgar  ex- 
pression. I  'm  very  glad  that  Diana  is  ashamed,  and 
I  only  hope  it  will  never  occur  again.  In  my  day, 
young  ladies  of  social  prominence  were  careful  who 
they  danced  with.  I  'm  sure  I  can't  see  any  reason 
for  Diana  dancing  with  Mr.  Trench.  Any  one  who 
reads  that  abominable  speech  of  his  at  Cresset's  can 
see,  at  a  glance,  that  he 's  an  anarchist." 


94  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Don't  you  think  that's  going  some,  Jinny?" 
argued  the  colonel  mildly;  "you  might  have  said 
socialist,  and  still  been  rather  strong." 

"I  never  could  see  any  difference,"  retorted  the 
lady  firmly,  settling  herself  in  the  most  comfortable 
wicker  armchair.  "An  anarchist  blows  up  every- 
thing, and  a  socialist  advises  you  to  blow  up  every- 
thing ;  the  difference  is  altogether  too  fine  for  me ! " 

"Just  the  difference  between  cause  and  effect,  eh, 
madam?  "  suggested  the  doctor  delightedly,  "and  all 
ending  in  explosion." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton,  with  an  air  of  finality. 
"Diana,  why  in  the  world  did  you  dance  with  him?" 

"  Because  you  and  Jacob  did  n't  want  me  to," 
Diana  replied  calmly. 

Both  the  old  men  chuckled,  and  Mrs.  Eaton 
reddened  with  anger.  "You  are  very  unnatural, 
Diana,"  she  said  severely.  "Jacob  and  I  have  your 
interests  at  heart.  He  didn't  consider  the  man  a 
proper  person  for  you  to  be  acquainted  with!" 

Diana  opened  her  lips  to  reply,  but  the  colonel 
forestalled  her,  anticipating  trouble.  "He's  been 
my  guest,  Jinny,"  he  remarked  placidly. 

Mrs.  Eaton  tossed  her  head.  "  You  'd  entertain 
Tom,  Dick  and  Harry  for  charity's  sake,  Cousin 
David,"  she  retorted;  "the  first  time  I  saw  him  here 
he  brought  six  cents  in  change  to  your  daughter." 

"He's  honest,  Mrs.  Eaton,"  said  the  doctor, 
twinkling;  "he's  a  Quaker." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  Quakers,"  she  re- 


CALEB  TRENCH  95 

plied  stiffly,  "I  never  met  one!"  and  her  tone  sig- 
nified that  she  did  not  want  to. 

"Well,  they're  not  anarchists,  Jinny!"  observed 
the  colonel;  "perhaps,  you've  heard  of  William 
Penn." 

"I'm  not  quite  a  fool,  David,"  she  retorted  hi 
exasperation. 

Dr.  Cheyney  was  enjoying  himself;  he  had  taken 
the  rocker  by  the  steps  and  was  swaying  gently,  his 
broad  straw  hat  on  his  knee.  He  took  the  New  York 
paper  out  of  his  pocket  and  unfolded  it.  "Perhaps 
you  'd  like  to  read  a  review  of  the  Cresset  speech, 
madam?"  he  said  amiably;  "they've  got  it  here, 
and  they  speak  of  Trench  as  a  young  lawyer  who 
has  suddenly  roused  a  State  from  apathy." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton,  with  overwhelming 
politeness,  "you  are  too  kind.  Probably  Diana 
would  like  to  read  it." 

Diana  was  rosy  with  anger,  and  her  eyes  sparkled. 
"Cousin  Jinny,  I  don't  like  the  man  any  better  than 
you  do!"  she  declared,  "and  I  detest  and  loathe 
that  Cresset  speech ;  I  've  breakfasted  on  it,  and 
dined  on  it,  and  supped  on  it,  until  —  until  I  hate 
the  name  of  it!" 

"  Diana,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  "  you  '11  need  those 
pink  capsules  yet!" 

"I  can't  see  what  you  all  admire  in  that  man!" 
protested  Mrs.  Eaton  irritably;  "he  keeps  a  shop 
and  he  goes  to  vulgar  political  meetings ;  if  that  is  n't 
enough,  what  is?" 


96  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Why,  the  truth  is,  Jinny,  that  he  Js  a  real  live 
man,"  said  the  colonel,  putting  on  his  spectacles  to 
read  the  New  York  version  of  the  Cresset  speech. 

"I  prefer  a  gentleman,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton  crushingly. 

Dr.  Cheyney  twinkled.  "  Madam,"  he  said  superbly, 
"so  do  I." 

Colonel  Royall,  meanwhile,  was  following  the 
speech,  line  by  line,  with  his  finger.  Half-way  down 
the  column,  he  lowered  the  paper.  "After  all,  he 
was  advocating  the  Australian  ballot,"  he  remarked 
thoughtfully. 

"He  wants  to  go  to  the  people  for  the  election  of 
senators,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney;  "he  doesn't  believe 
in  our  legislatures  when  the  great  corporations  are 
interested.  Yes,  I  suppose  he  does  like  the  Australian 
ballot." 

"I  should  think-  he  would,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton 
promptly;  "I've  always  looked  upon  Australia  as 
a  penal  settlement." 

Dr.  Cheyney  shook  with  silent  laughter  again. 
"Madam,"  he  said,  "do  you  think  him  a  possible 
ticket-of-leave  man?" 

"I  am  disposed  to  think  anything  of  a  man  who 
can  and  does  support  Garnett  Yarnall  for  governor," 
she  replied  frigidly. 

Dr.  Cheyney's  face  sobered  suddenly,  and  Colonel 
Royall  rustled  the  paper  uneasily.  After  all,  she  had 
cause;  a  Yarnall  had  shot  her  husband.  The  two 
men  felt  it  less  keenly  than  Diana.  She  rose  suddenly 
and  offered  her  elderly  relative  her  arm. 


CALEB  TRENCH  97 

"  Cousin  Jinny,  let 's  go  and  see  my  new  rose  stocks," 
she  said  mildly;  "they  've  been  set  out  in  the  south 
garden." 

Mrs.  Eaton  rose,  propitiated,  and  accepted  Diana's 
arm,  the  two  moving  off  together  in  apparent  amity. 
Dr.  Cheyney's  eyes  followed  them,  and  then  came 
back  to  meet  the  peculiar  sadness  of  Colonel  Royall's. 

"  Do  you  think  she  's  —  she  's  like  —  "  The  colo- 
nel's voice  trailed ;  he  was  looking  after  Diana. 

"No,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney  sharply,  "no,  she's  like 
your  mother." 

The  wistful  expression  died  in  the  other  man's 
eyes,  and  he  forced  a  smile.  "  You  think  so?  Perhaps 
she  does.  Mother  was  a  good  woman,  God  bless  her 
memory,"  he  added  reverently,  "but  a  month  ago  "  — 
he  leaned  forward,  and  the  hands  that  gripped  the 
arms  of  his  chair  trembled  slightly  —  "a  month  ago  I 
caught  her  looking  at  me ;  her  eyes  are  hazel,  and  "  — 
he  avoided  the  doctor's  glance,  and  colored  with  the 
slow  painfulness  of  an  old  man's  blush  —  "  her  eyes 
were  just  like  her  mother's." 

Dr.  Cheyney  got  up  abruptly  and  laid  his  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  "Wake  up,  David,"  he  said  sharply, 
"wake  up  —  you  're  dreaming." 

"I  haven't  breathed  it  to  any  one  else,  William," 
Colonel  Royall  said,  "not  in  eighteen  years  —  but 
I  've  seen  it  all  the  time." 

His  old  friend  eyed  him  grimly.  "And  it 's  fright- 
ened you?" 

The  colonel  drew  a  deep  breath.  "William,"  he 
7 


98  CALEB  TRENCH 

•aid,  "do  you  know  how  a  starving  man  would  feel 
when  he  saw  his  last  crust  in  danger?" 

The  old  doctor  paced  the  broad  veranda;  beside 
it  a  tree  of  heaven  spread  its  graceful  limbs,  every 
branch  still  double  tipped  with  the  rosy  leaves  of  its 
spring  budding.  Before  him  stretched  the  tender 
green  of  the  south  lawn,  shaded  by  the  grove  of  horse- 
chestnuts  ;  beyond  he  caught  a  distant  glimpse  of  the 
river. 

"David,"  he  said  uncompromisingly,  "Diana  has 
a  noble  heart,  but  —  Jinny  Eaton  is  a  fool." 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  colonel  thoughtfully,  "but 
she 's  been  a  mother  to  the  girl  and  she  loves 
her." 

"She  wants  to  marry  her  to  Jacob,"  snapped  the 
doctor. 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  He  's  not  fit  to  tie  her  shoe,"  retorted  the  doctor. 
"Jacob's  the  slickest  critter  in  the  county,  but  I 
have  n't  got  any  more  use  for  him  than  Caleb  Trench 
has  —  if  he  is  your  cousin." 

The  colonel  looked  thoughtful.  "He  's  very  clever, 
William,"  he  protested,  "and  he's  very  much  in 
love." 

"Fiddlesticks !"  said  the  doctor. 

Colonel  Royall  laughed  a  little  in  spite  of  himself. 
"  You  love  Diana,  too,"  he  remarked. 

"I  do,"  said  William  Cheyney,  "and  I  don't  believe 
Jacob  will  make  her  happy.  But,  Lord  bless  me, 
David,  you  and  I  won't  do  the  choosing  —  Miss  Di 


CALEB  TRENCH  99 

will  I  In  my  opinion  it  won't  be  Jacob  Eaton,  either." 
Then  he  added  briskly :  "This  young  lawyer  of  ours  is 
right  about  Aylett ;  he  's  a  machine  man  and  the 
machine  is  rotten.  We  want  Yarnall ;  I  wish  you  'd 
come  to  think  so,  too." 

Colonel  Royall  thought,  putting  the  tips  of  his 
fingers  together.  "The  truth  is,  the  Eatons  are  too 
near  to  me,"  he  admitted  quietly;  "you  know  Jinny 
can't  forget  that  a  Yarnall  shot  her  husband,  and  I 
don't  know  that  I  could  ask  it  of  her." 

"  Her  husband  was  guilty,"  said  the  doctor  flatly. 

"  I  'm  afraid  he  was,"  admitted  Colonel  Royall, 
"though  Mrs.  Yarnall  denied  it;  the  jury  justified 
Yarnall." 

"I  can't  forgive  one  man  for  shooting  another  for 
an  unworthy  woman ! "  said  the  doctor  fiercely,  for- 
getting many  things. 

The  slow  red  crept  up  to  Colonel  Royall's  hair.  "  I 
ought  to  have  done  it,"  he  said  simply;  "but  —  but 
I  let  him  live  to  marry  her." 

"Just  so,"  said  William  Cheyney ;-" solidly  right, 
too ;  that 's  purgatory  enough  for  most  of  'em,"  he 
added,  under  his  breath,  as  he  took  the  long  turn  on 
the  veranda. 

Colonel  Royall  did  not  hear  him ;  his  head  was  bare, 
and  the  light  breeze  stirred  his  white  hair;  it  had 
turned  suddenly,  twenty  years  before.  "It  would 
be  against  all  precedent  for  any  of  the  family  to  favor 
a  Yarnall,"  he  remarked  slowly. 

"Jacob  won't,"   said  the  doctor  shortly,   a  dry 


100  CALEB  TRENCH 

smile  crinkling  the  wrinkles  around  his  kindly,  shrewd 
old  eyes. 

"Nor  would  you,  in  Jacob's  place,"  countered  the 
colonel,  tapping  the  floor  with  his  stick. 

A  negro  appeared  promptly  at  the  door. 

"Two  juleps,  Kingdom,"  he  ordered. 

Dr.  Cheyney  ceased  his  promenade  and  sat  down. 
"This  State's  got  to  be  cleaned  up,  David,"  he  said 
maliciously;  "we've  got  too  much  machine.  I'm 
all  for  Trench." 

"I  'm  not  sure  I  know  what  ails  us,"  objected  the 
colonel  humorously;  "we're  either  bewitched  or 
hypnotized.  In  a  fortnight  we  've  set  up  Caleb 
Trench,  and  I  reckon  he  's  more  talked  of  than  the 
volcano  in  the  West  Indies." 

"He  will  be  later,"  said  the  doctor;  "there's  a 
man  for  you!" 

"They  say  he  began  by  getting  hold  of  the  back- 
woodsmen; they  go  down  to  his  shop  and  discuss 
politics  once  a  week;  he  organized  them  into  a  club 
and  made  them  take  a  pledge  to  vote  for  Yarnall." 

"All  rot,"  said  William  Cheyney  fiercely;  "do  you 
think  the  man 's  a  damned  rogue?  He 's  talked 
straight  politics  to  'em,  and  he  's  showed  up  some  of 
the  machine  methods.  By  the  way,  David,  he 's 
set  his  face  against  Jacob  Eaton's  get-rich-quick 
games.  I  don't  believe  in  'em  myself;  when  that 
young  bounder,  Macdougall,  came  at  me  about  them 
the  other  day  in  the  bank,  I  told  him  I  kept  all  my 
money  tied  up  in  a  stocking.  I  reckon  he  thinks  I  do," 


CALEB  TRENCH  101 

twinkled  the  doctor,  "because  I  Ve  nothing  in  their 
bank.  David,  I  hope  you  're  not  favoring  Jacob's 
schemes  too  heavily?" 

Colonel  Royall  looked  perplexed.  Kingdom-Come 
had  just  brought  out  a  tray  with  two  tinkling  glasses 
of  iced  mint  julep,  and  he  watched  the  white-headed 
negro  set  them  out  deftly  on  the  little  portable  basket 
tea-table  of  Diana's. 

"How  are  you  feeling,  Kingdom?"  Dr.  Cheyney 
asked  genially,  eying  the  juleps. 

"Right  po'ly,  Doctah,"  Kingdom  replied,  showing 
his  ivories,  "but  I  manages  ter  keep  my  color." 

"Eh?"  said  the  doctor,  startled. 

Kingdom-Come  beamed.  "  But  I  'se  got  er  mis'ry 
in  my  chest,  an'  I  reckon  I  'se  got  vertigo  an'  conges- 
tion ob  de  brain ;  I  hez  dese  er  dizzy  turns,  suh." 

"Take  some  castor  oil,  Kingdom,"  said  the  doctor, 
placidly  stirring  his  julep,  "and  put  a  mustard  plaster 
on  your  stomach." 

"Yass,  suh,  thank  yo',"  said  Kingdom,  a  little 
weakly.  "  I  'se  done  took  two  doses  ob  oil  this  week, 
an'  I  'se  been  rubbin'  myse'f  wid  some  ob  dis  yer 
kittycurah." 

"Good  Lord!"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  "take  a  pint  of 
whiskey  and  go  to  bed." 

"William,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  after  Kingdom  had 
gone,  "I  don't  see  why  you  set  your  face  so  flatly 
against  Jacob  Eaton's  investments.  Who  has  talked 
this  up?" 

"Caleb  Trench,"  said  the  doctor. 


102  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Heavens!"  ejaculated  Colonel  Royall,  "is  there 
no  end?" 

"To  him?"  Dr.  Cheyney  twinkled,  "No,  sir,  not 
yet.  He  's  taken  the  packing  out  of  Jacob ;  he  says 
that  more  than  half  these  countrymen  vote  with  the 
Eaton  faction  because  they  've  put  all  their  money 
in  the  Eaton  Investment  Company,  and  I  '11  be 
hanged,  sir,  if  he  does  n't  state  it  fairly." 

Colonel  Royall  got  up  and  stood,  a  towering  figure 
of  a  man,  his  blue  eyes  kindled.  "William,"  he  said 
hoarsely,  "that  doesn't  sound  honorable." 

"David,"  retorted  the  old  man  uncompromisingly, 
"  I  tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil  —  I  Ve  got  an 
eighty-mile  circuit  hi  this  county,  sir,  and  it 's  true !" 

"Then,  sir,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  "this  county's 
rotten." 

William  Cheyney  leaned  back  hi  his  chair  and 
smiled  quietly.  "  It 's  the  same  way  in  the  State ; 
the  Eaton  Company 's  offering  bigger  interest  than 
any  other  company  this  side  of  the  Mississippi;  it 
has  n't  cut  its  rate,  even  in  the  panic,  and  it 's  getting 
new  investors  every  day  —  or  it  did  till  Caleb  Trench 
got  up  at  Cresset  and  cut  the  thing  in  two." 

"Caleb  Trench?"  repeated  the  colonel  slowly. 
"William,  that  young  man's  creating  a  sensation. 
I  begin  to  doubt  him ;  does  he  mean  it,  or  is  he  bid- 
ding for  notoriety?" 

Dr.  Cheyney  smiled  grimly.  "David,"  he  said, 
"you  ask  Judge  Hollis;  he  believes  in  him  and  so 
do  I." 


CALEB  TRENCH  103 

"I  don't  know  why  I  should  n't  believe  in  Jacob," 
said  the  colonel  stiffly;  "he  's  my  own  blood,  and  we 
might  as  well  believe  in  one  young  man  as  another. 
What 's  the  difference  between  them?" 

"Well,"  replied  the  doctor  slowly,  "when  I  go  into 
a  grocery  store  and  see  one  basket  of  eggs  labelled 
'Box  eggs,  fresh,  thirty-two  cents/  and  the  other 
basket,  '  Hen's  eggs,  forty-five  cents,'  I  'm  kind  of 
naturally  suspicious  of  the  box  eggs.  Not  that  I 
want  to  bear  too  hard  on  Jacob." 


MEANWHILE  Jacob  Eaton  rode  out  with 
Diana  in  the  early  mornings,  before  even 
Dr.  Cheyney  had  his  breakfast.  Jacob  had 
no  taste  for  sunrise  or  the  lark,  but  if  Diana  rode  in 
the  first  freshness  of  morning,  he  rode  stubbornly  be- 
side her,  more  stubbornly  than  she  cared  to  admit. 

After  all,  Jacob  was  her  third  cousin,  and  the  pro- 
pinquity, with  the  close  family  relations  which  Mrs. 
Eaton  jealously  maintained,  made  him  seem  even 
nearer.  Without  liking  him  very  much,  Diana  had 
tolerated  his  constant  presence  for  so  many  years 
that  it  had  become  a  habit.  No  doubt  we  could  grow 
happily  accustomed  to  a  hippopotamus  as  a  pet,  if 
we  could  keep  it  long  enough  in  our  individual  bath- 
tubs. Usage  and  propinquity !  How  many  recalci- 
trants have  been  reconciled  to  an  unwelcome  fate  by 
these  two  potent  factors  in  life ! 

Diana,  riding  up  the  hill  through  clustered  masses 
of  rhododendrons,  was  happily  indifferent  to  Jacob  at 
her  bridle  rein.  Jacob  was  useful,  rather  pleasant  to 
talk  to,  and  paid  her  the  constant  homage  of  undis- 
guised admiration.  After  all,  it  was  pleasant  to  be 
with  one  to  whom  she  meant  so  much.  She  could 
hold  him  lightly  at  arm's  length,  for  Jacob  was  too 


CALEB  TRENCH  105 

wise  to  hazard  all  for  nothing,  yet  she  was  aware  that 
her  lightest  wish  had  its  weight.  It  was  only  when  he 
tried  to  assume  the  right  of  an  elder  brother  to  meddle 
with  her  affairs,  as  he  had  at  Kitty  Broughton's  ball, 
that  she  resented  his  interference. 

Jacob  had,  indeed,  slipped  into  her  ways  with  a 
tame-cattiness  which,  no  matter  how  it  accorded  with 
his  sleek  appearance,  was  in  direct  contradiction  to 
the  character  behind  the  mask.  Diana,  flouting  him 
in  her  girlish  coquetry,  was  but  sowing  the  wind;  if 
she  married  him  later,  she  would  reap  the  whirlwind, 
yet  half  her  relations  desired  it.  Thus  wisely  does 
the  outsider  plan  a  life. 

Diana  stopped  abruptly  and,  bending  from  the 
saddle,  gathered  a  large  cluster  of  pink  rhododen- 
drons; the  dew  was  on  them  still  and  it  sparkled  in 
the  sunshine. 

"Why  did  n't  you  let  me  break  it  for  you?"  Jacob 
asked  mildly;  "sometime  when  you  bend  that  way 
from  your  saddle  you  '11  lose  your  balance  and  —  " 

"Take  a  cropper,"  said  Diana.  "I  hope  I  shan't 
break  my  nose." 

"Or  your  head,  which  would  mean  my  heart,"  he 
retorted. 

She  laughed;  she  was  very  charming  when  she 
laughed  and,  perhaps,  she  knew  it.  Diana  was  very 
human.  "Which  is  harder  than  my  head,"  she  said; 
"in  fact,  I  have  heard  something  of  the  nether 
millstone." 

"You  would  find  it  very  brittle  if  you  turned  the 


106  CALEB  TRENCH 

cold  shoulder,"  said  Jacob  calmly,  flicking  the  young 
shrubs  with  his  crop. 

"A  piece  of  broken  crockery,"  mocked  Diana;  "you 
will  have  it  mended  when  I  marry  some  one 
else." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  retorted,  unmoved,  "to  quote 
the  romancer:  '  Je  vais  mefich'  a  Veau.'  " 

"What?"  she  questioned,  with  lifted  brows. 

"It 's  French,"  he  explained. 

"So  I  supposed,"  replied  Diana,  "but  not  as  I 
learned  it." 

"  Nevertheless  it  is  forcible,"  said  Jacob ;  "  it  means, 
inelegantly,  that  I  will  pitch  myself  into  the  river." 

"Inelegant  and  untruthful  then,"  said  she. 

"I  got  it  from  a  book,"  he  said,  "a  recent  one,  and 
famous.  I  am  quoting  the  modern  novelists." 

They  had  reached  the  crest  of  a  low  ridge,  and 
through  a  growth  of  red  cedars  could  see  the  flash 
and  leap  of  the  river.  Diana  drew  rein  and  turned 
her  face  fully  toward  her  companion. 

"Jacob,"  she  said  abruptly,"  why  did  you  give  all 
that  money  to  Juniper?" 

Jacob  smiled,  his  eyelids  drooping ;  in  the  sunshine 
his  clear  smooth  skin  looked  waxy,  as  though  it  would 
take  the  impression  of  a  finger  and  keep  it.  "There 's 
an  instance  of  my  heart,  Diana,"  he  said  sententiously. 

She  studied  him  attentively.  "Was  it  altogether 
that?"  she  demanded,  the  straight  line  of  her  brows 
slightly  contracted. 

"What  else?"  he  asked  lightly,  leaning  forward  to 

I 


CALEB  TRENCH  107 

break  off  a  cedar  berry  and  toss  it  away  again.  "  Look 
here,  Di,  you  're  down  on  me  —  what 's  the  matter?" 

"I  want  to  understand  you,"  she  replied 'slowly; 
"  fifty  dollars  is  too  large  a  sum  to  give  all  at  once  to 
a  negro ;  you  '11  corrupt  a  member  of  the  church,  a 
brand  snatched  from  the  burning.  Jumper  has  ex- 
perienced religion." 

Jacob  laughed.  "Been  stealing  chickens  lately,  I 
reckon." 

"No,  it  was  Lysander,"  corrected  Diana  demurely. 

"The  shopkeeper  lawyer  can  defend  him  again," 
•aid  her  cousin;  "all  the  fools  are  not  dead  yet." 

"No,  indeed,"  she  agreed,  so  heartily  that  h» 
looked  up  quickly. 

"I  really  meant  to  help  the  old  nigger,"  he  said 
frankly ;  "  he  's  always  begging,  and  he  's  been  sick 
and  out  of  work.  I  'm  sorry  if  you  think  fifty  too 
much." 

Diana  touched  her  horse  lightly,  and  they  moved  on. 
"Too  much  at  one  time,"  she  said  more  gently. 
"He'll  spend  it  in  an  enormous  supply  of  tobacco, 
watermelons  and  whiskey,  and  probably  go  to  the 
workhouse.  If  he  does,  you  '11  have  to  bail  him  out, 
Jacob." 

"  Is  n't  there  a  bare  possibility  that  the  watermelons 
might  kill  him?"  he  suggested  meekly. 

"A  negro?"  Diana  laughed.  "Jacob,  why  didn't 
you  give  it  to  Aunt  Charity?" 

"She  has,  at  present,  purloined  the  silver  teapot," 
said  Jacob ;  "  my  soul  loves  justice." 


108  CALEB  TRENCH 

She  looked  sharply  at  him,  her  young  face  severe. 
"I  believe  you  had  another  motive.  Are  you  sure 
that  it  was  for  his  good,  and  only  for  his  good?" 

"Cross  my  heart,"  said  Jacob  devoutly.  See  here, 
Diana,  why  should  I  fritter  away  my  substance?  Of 
what  use  on  earth  could  that  old  nigger  be  to  me?" 

She  looked  thoughtful.  The  horses  moved  on 
evenly  abreast.  "None  that  I  can  see,"  she  ad- 
mitted honestly ;  "  after  all,  it  was  good  of  you ;  for- 
give me." 

"After  all,  there  is  some  good  in  me,"  he  replied, 
paraphrasing.  "  I  'm  worth  noticing,  my  fair  cousin  1 " 

"When  you  come  directly  across  the  horizon!" 
laughed  Diana. 

Below  them  now  was  the  highroad,  and  as  they 
looked  along  the  white  bend  of  its  elbow,  below  the 
ash  and  the  young  maples,  they  both  saw  the  tall 
straight  figure  of  Caleb  Trench.  He  did  not  see 
them ;  he  passed  below  them,  and  turned  the  shoulder 
of  the  hill.  Diana  said  nothing;  her  eyes  had  reluc- 
tantly followed  him. 

"There  goes  a  fool,"  remarked  her  cousin,  "or  a 
knave." 

"Why  is  it,"  asked  Diana,  "that  a  man,  failing  to 
agree  with  another,  calls  him  names?" 

He  laughed,  his  cheek  reddening.  "Why  should  I 
agree  with  that  shyster?" 

"Why  should  that  shyster  agree  with  you?"  she 
mocked,  a  light  kindling  in  her  clear  eyes. 

Jacob  chuckled  unpleasantly.     "  I  hope  you  've 


CALEB  TRENCH  109 

never  claimed  that  six  cents  again,"  he  commented; 
"he  's  got  your  receipt,  you  know." 

It  was  her  turn  to  redden.  "You  are  jealous  of  his 
growing  reputation,"  she  flung  at  him. 

He  shrugged  a  shoulder.  "  Of  that  beautiful  speech 
at  Cresset's,  in  which  he  painted  me  as  the  devil  and 
all  his  works?" 

"  I  admired  the  Cresset  speech ! "  she  exclaimed,  a 
sentiment  which  would  have  amazed  Mrs.  Eaton. 

Jacob  laughed.  "So  do  I,"  he  said,  "it  was  first- 
class  campaign  matter,  but  —  well,  Di,  personal  abuse 
is  a  little  vulgar,  is  n't  it,  just  now?" 

"Not  if  you  deserved  it,"  she  said  defiantly. 

"  I  'd  take  any  amount  if  you  'd  promise  not  to 
dance  with  him  again." 

"I  'm  the  best  judge  of  my  partners,"  said  Diana, 
with  indignant  dignity;  "if  any  one  speaks  it  should 
be  my  father." 

"Aptly  said,"  he  admitted  suavely,  "and  the  colonel 
is  one  in  a  thousand,  but  you  wind  him  around  your 
little  finger." 

"You  do  not  know  Colonel  Royall,"  said  Colonel 
Royall's  daughter,  with  just  pride. 

Jacob  lifted  his  hat.    "  Vive  le  Roi!"  he  said. 

She  gave  him  an  indignant  glance.  "You  are  a 
mocker." 

"On  my  soul,  no!" 

"Jacob,"  said  Diana,  "your  soul,  like  the  rich 
man's,  may  scarcely  pass  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle." 


110  CALEB  TRENCH 

"My  dear  cousin,  my  soul  has  been  passing  through 
it  under  your  rebukes.  What  shall  I  do  to  please 
you?" 

Diana  rode  on,  her  chin  up.  The  path  was  narrow, 
and  Jacob,  falling  behind,  had  only  the  privilege  of 
admiring  the  long  slim  lines  of  her  athletic  young 
back,  and  the  way  she  sat  her  horse.  Beyond  the 
cedars  the  path  forked  on  the  road,  and  he  came  up 
again. 

"I  am  chastened,"  he  said;  "shall  I  be  forgiven?" 

She  laughed  softly,  then  her  mood  changed. 
"Jacob,"  she  said,  quite  seriously,  "you  are  sure 
that  you'll  renominate  Governor  Aylett?" 

"  My  dear  Di,  I  am  sure  of  nothing  in  this  world  but 
death,"  he  retorted  dryly,  "but  I  '11  be  —  " 

"Cut  it  out,  Jacob,"  she  cautioned,  her  eyes 
twinkling. 

"I  won't  have  Yarnall !"  he  finished  lamely. 

She  nodded.  "  I  understand,  but  what  is  this  about 
the  backwoodsmen  being  organized?" 

"Your  friend,  the  shyster,"  he  mocked,  "he  has 
that  line  of  politics ;  he  speaks  well  on  top  of  a  barrel. 
I  suppose  he  can  empty  one,  too." 

"Not  as  easily  as  you  could,  Jacob,"  she  retorted 
ruthlessly. 

He  raised  his  eyebrows.  "  I  've  been  in  love  with 
you  these  many  years,  and  thus  do  you  trample  on 
my  feelings!" 

"I  wish  you  had  feelings,"  said  Diana  calmly; 
"you  have  mechanism." 


CALEB  TRENCH  111 

"Upon  my  word!"  he  cried;  "this  is  the  last 
straw." 

"You  should  be  a  successful  politician,"  she  con- 
tinued ;  "  you  are  a  successful  business  man.  Success 
is  your  Moloch;  beware,  Jacob!" 

"  I  am  willing  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  prophetess," 
he  protested.  "  I  've  served  seven  years,  I  —  " 

"Jacob,"  said  Diana,  "don't  be  silly.  There's 
Kingdom-Come  at  the  gate ;  they  are  waiting  to  turn 
the  omelet.  Come ! "  and  she  galloped  down  to  the 
high  gateway,  the  rhododendrons  clustering  at  her 
saddle-bow  and  the  sunshine  in  her  face. 

Kingdom-Come  grinned.  "Fo'  de  Lawd,  Miss  Di, 
I  reckon  yo'  clean  forgot  dat  folks  eats  hi  de  mawnin'." 


XI 


Y  I  ^HE  next  morning  Judge  Hollis  walked  into 
Caleb  Trench's  little  back  room. 

-*-  In  the  broad  daylight  the  judge  was  a 
stately  figure,  tall,  stout,  white-haired,  with  a  high 
Roman  nose  and  a  mouth  and  chin  like  a  Spartan's. 
He  always  wore  an  old-fashioned,  long  frock  coat,  a 
high  pointed  collar  and  stiff  black  tie ;  in  summer  his 
waistcoat  was  white  marseilles,  with  large  buttons  and 
a  heavy  watch-chain;  he  carried  a  gold-headed  cane 
and  he  took  snuff. 

He  found  Trench  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  plodding  over 
some  papers,  his  face  flushed  and  his  jaw  set,  a  trick 
he  had  in  perplexity.  The  judge  eyed  him  grimly. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "what's  the  price  of  cockerels 
to-day?" 

Trench,  who  had  not  noticed  his  entrance,  rose  and 
gave  the  old  man  a  chair.  "To-day  I  'm  figuring  out 
the  price  of  men,"  he  replied;  "every  single  investor 
in  the  Eaton  Land  Company  has  been  notified  —  in 
one  way  or  another  —  that  only  Aylett  men  are  to 
go  to  the  Democratic  Convention." 

The  judge  whistled  softly. 

"It 's  true,"  said  Trench,  throwing  back  his  head 
with  a  peculiar  gesture  of  the  right  hand  that  was  at 


CALEB  TRENCH  113 

once  characteristic  and  striking.  "I  'm  ashamed  for 
you  Democrats,"  he  added. 

The  judge  squared  his  massive  shoulders  and 
gripped  his  gold-headed  cane.  "You  young  black 
Republican  agitator,"  he  retorted  bitterly,  "produce 
your  evidence." 

Trench  brought  his  palm  down  sharply  on  his  desk. 
"It 's  here,"  he  said;  "Aaron  Todd  has  been  threat- 
ened, but  he  did  not  put  in  his  last  savings  and  is 
standing  firm;  the  rest  are  like  frightened  sheep. 
Because  I  pointed  out  this  lever  in  my  Cresset  speech 
they  seem  to  think  it 's  a  fulfillment,  and  they  've 
poured  in  on  me  to-day  to  beg  me  to  get  their  invest- 
ments out  for  them !  Meanwhile  the  company  has 
declared  that  no  dividends  will  be  paid  until  after 
election,  neither  will  they  refund.  If  I  carry  the  cases 
into  court  against  Eaton,  he  '11  take  advantage  of  the 
bankruptcy  law.  The  investors  in  the  country  are 
frightened  to  death,  and  they  'd  vote  for  Satan  for 
governor  if  they  thought  it  would  insure  their  money. 
Yarnall  's  an  honest  man,  but  there  are  fifty  hand- 
bills in  circulation  accusing  him  of  everything 
short  of  arson  and  murder.  That 's  your  Demo- 
cratic campaign." 

"  And  your  Republican  one  is  to  stir  up  the  niggers," 
thundered  the  judge.  "  Peter  Mahan  's  been  out  in  the 
Bottoms  speaking  to  ten  thousand  blacks!  By  the 
Lord  Harry,  sir,  I  wish  they  were  all  stuffed  down  his 
throat!" 

Whereat  Caleb  Trench  laughed  suddenly.    "  Judge," 


114  CALEB  TRENCH 

he  said,  "  if  Peter  Mahan  could  be  elected,  you  'd  have 
a  clean  straight  administration." 

"He  can't  be,  sir,"  snapped  the  judge,  "and  I  'm 
glad  of  it!" 

"You  '11  be  sorry,"  Trench  remarked  calmly,  "un- 
less you  nominate  Yarnall." 

"I  'm  for  Aylett,"  the  judge  said  soberly.  "I  shall 
vote  for  Aylett  hi  the  convention;  Yarnall  will  split 
the  party.  That 's  what  you  want,  you  young  cub ! " 

Caleb  smiled.  "  I  'm  Interested  to  know  how  much 
money  it  will  take  to  nominate  Aylett,"  he  said; 
"you're  for  Aylett,  judge,  but  you're  not  strong 
enough  to  defeat  Yarnall." 

"Neither  are  you  strong  enough  to  nominate  him," 
said  the  judge  sharply.  "You  look  out  for  the  blood 
feud,  Caleb;  these  fellows  behind  Jacob  Eaton 
have  n't  forgotten  that  the  Yarnalls  drew  the  last 
blood.  They  're  mighty  like  North  American  Indians, 
and  your  Cresset  speech  stirred  up  a  hornet's  nest. 
I  'm  for  Aylett  and  peace." 

Trench  folded  the  papers  on  his  desk  reflectively. 
"I  can't  make  out  Jacob  Eaton,"  he  said. 

The  judge  chuckled.  "He  's  a  mighty  queer  pack- 
age," he  said  grimly,  "a  cross  between  a  mollycoddle 
and  a  bully.  Jinny  Eaton  raised  him  hi  jeweler's 
cotton  for  fear  he  'd  catch  the  measles,  and  he  went 
to  college  with  a  silver  christening  mug  and  a  silk 
quilt.  When  he  got  there  he  drank  whiskey  and 
played  the  races,  and  some  poor  devil,  who  was 
working  his  way  through  college,  coached  him  for 


v     CALEB  TRENCH  115 

his  exams.  He  got  out  with  a  diploma  but  no  honors, 
and  enough  bad  habits  to  sink  a  ship.  Then  Jinny 
introduced  him  to  society  as  the  Model  Young  Man. 
He  's  been  speculating  ever  since,  and  he  's  got  the 
shrewd  business  sense  that  old  man  Eaton  had.  He 
does  n't  care  two  cents  for  Aylett,  but  he  's  going  to 
fight  Yarnall  to  the  knife.  He  —  What  the  devil 's 
the  matter  with  Zeb  Bartlett?"  the  judge  suddenly 
added,  stooping  to  look  out  of  the  window.  "He  's 
been  walking  past  the  front  door,  back  and  forth, 
four  or  five  times  since  I  've  been  sitting  here,  and 
he 's  making  faces  until  he  looks  like  a  sculpin." 

Trench  laughed  grimly.  "He  does  that  at  inter- 
vals," he  replied,  "because  I  won't  lend  him  a  dollar 
to  get  tipsy  on." 

The  judge  grunted,  his  head  still  lowered  to  com- 
mand a  view  of  the  shambling  figure  of  the  idiot. 
Then  he  rose  suddenly  and  went  to  the  window, 
thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket.  "Here,  Zeb!" 
he  shouted,  in  his  stentorian  tones,  "take  that  and 
get  drunk,  and  I  '11  have  you  arrested,"  and  he  flung 
out  fifty  cents. 

Bartlett  groveled  for  it  in  the  dust,  found  it  and 
grinned  idiotically.  Then,  retreating  a  few  steps,  he 
looked  back  and  kissed  his  hand,  still  gurgling.  The 
judge  watched  him  out  of  sight,  then  he  sat  down  and 
took  snuff.  "Don't  let  that  fool  hang  around  here," 
he  said  sharply ;  "it  will  get  a  crank  into  his  head  and 
the  Lord  knows  how  it 's  going  to  come  out.  Give  him 
a  quarter  and  let  him  go." 


116  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  won't,"  said  Caleb  dryly.  " I  'd  rather  give  it  to 
his  grandmother ;  she'll  need  it." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  the  judge  ironically,  "and 
she  'd  give  it  to  him  with  a  dime  on  top  of  it ; 
that 's  a  woman  down  to  the  ground.  If  there  's 
anything  worthless  within  a  hundred  miles,  they  '11 
adore  it!" 

As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  rustle  in  the  outer  shop  and 
Miss  Sarah  suddenly  thrust  her  head  in  the  door.  She 
always  wore  the  most  extraordinary  bonnets,  and  the 
one  to-day  had  a  long  green  plume  that  trembled  and 
swayed  behind  her  head  like  the  pendulum  of  an 
eight-day  clock. 

"Judge,"  she  said,  "I  wish  you  'd  get  up  and  go 
home.  It  sounds  rude,  Caleb,  but  he  's  always  in- 
sisting on  dinner  at  one  o'clock  sharp,  because  his 
grandmother  had  it,  and  he  's  never  there  until  the 
roast  is  overdone  or  the  gravy  is  spoiled!  Besides, 
I  'm  alarmed ;  I  've  discovered  something  about  Juni- 
per." Miss  Sarah  came  in  and  shut  the  door  and  put 
her  back  against  it,  her  air  conveying  some  deep  and 
awful  mystery.  "He  's  got  fifty  dollars." 

The  judge  brought  down  his  heavy  brows  over  his 
high  nose  hi  a  judicial  frown,  but  his  eyes  snapped. 
"What 's  the  nigger  been  up  to?"  he  asked  calmly; 
"been  negotiating  law  business  for  him,  Trench?" 

Caleb  shook  his  head,  smiling. 

"He's  been  stealing,"  said  Miss  Sarah  with  con- 
viction. 

"Think  likely,"  said  the  judge,  "but  from  whom? 


CALEB  TRENCH  117 

Not  me,  Sarah ;  if  it  had  been  from  me  it  would  have 
been  fifty  cents." 

"I  never  thought  it  was  from  you,"  she  retorted 
scornfully,  "but  I've  hunted  the  house  over  to  see 
if  he  could  have  pawned  anything  and  — " 

The  judge  brought  his  hand  down  on  his  knee. 
"The  silver  teapot,  Sarah !" 

She  shook  her  head.  "Aunt  Charity's  got  it;  she 
gave  a  supper  last  night  and  they  had  their  usual 
fight  and  she  locked  him  out.  He  sat  on  the  step  all 
night  and  came  to  our  house  for  something  to  eat; 
then  he  showed  the  fifty-dollar  bill.  Of  course  he 
stole  it." 

The  judge  meditated,  looking  grim. 

It  was  Trench  who  made  the  suggestion.  "  Is  n't 
that  rather  large  for  campaign  money?"  he  asked 
mildly. 

The  judge  swore,  then  he  got  up  and  reached  for 
his  hat.  "I'll  make  him  take  it  back,"  he  said 
viciously. 

"Take  it  where?"  demanded  Miss  Sarah  vaguely. 

"To  Ballyshank!"  retorted  the  judge,  jamming 
his  hat  down  on  his  head. 

They  all  emerged  into  the  outer  room  just  as  Miss 
Royall  appeared  in  the  shop  door.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  pink  muslin  with  a  wide  straw  hat  trimmed  with 
pink  roses,  and  looked  like  a  woodland  nymph.  The 
judge  swung  off  his  hat. 

"We've  been  having  a  political  tournament,"  he 
said,  "  and  now  comes  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty." 


118  CALEB  TRENCH 

Diana  liked  the  old  man  and  smiled  her  most  charm- 
ing smile.  Miss  Sarah  went  up  and  pecked  her  cheek, 
a  rite  that  elderly  ladies  still  like  to  perform  in  public. 
Trench,  longing  to  play  the  host  but  too  proud  to 
risk  a  rebuke,  bowed  silently.  Something  in  Diana's 
eye  warned  him  that  she  was  minded  to  make  him 
repent  the  dance  she  had  given  him;  the  scoldings 
she  had  received  were  rankling  in  her  mind.  Un- 
happily, too,  something  in  the  judge's  manner  said, 
"So  ho !  is  this  a  flirtation?"  Her  cheeks  burned. 

The  judge  blundered.  "Let  me  offer  a  chair," 
he  said,  with  old-fashioned  courtesy,  "then  we  will 
ask  you  to  help  us  solve  a  riddle  of  Sarah's.  She  has 
found  that  Jumper  is  unusually  rich,  a  kind  of  ebony 
John  Jacob  Astor,  the  proud  possessor  of  fifty  dollars." 

Diana  declined  the  chair.  "Juniper?"  she  re- 
peated. "  Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  about  it ! " 

"Did  he  steal  it  from  you,  dear?"  Miss  Sarah 
asked  excitedly. 

"Jacob  Eaton  gave  it  to  him,"  Diana  replied 
simply,  "he  thought  he  needed  it;  he's  been  out  of 
work,  and  you  know  what  a  nuisance  Lysander  is." 

"But  fifty  dollars,  my  dear!"  protested  Miss 
Hollis  faintly. 

Diana  caught  the  glances  between  the  judge  and 
Trench  and  stiffened.  "My  cousin  is  generous,"  she 
said. 

The  judge  took  snuff. 

Poor  Caleb  fell  into  the  snare.  "Miss  Royall,  do 
sit  down,"  he  urged,  pushing  forward  the  chair. 


CALEB  TRENCH  119 

Diana's  chin  went  up ;  her  eyes  sparkled.  "Thank 
you,  I  only  came  for  that  bolt  of  pink  ribbon,"  she 
said  grandly,  indicating  it  with  her  parasol,  and  then, 
opening  her  purse,  "How  much  is  it?" 

"It's  sold,"  said  Trench,  and  shut  his  lips  like  a 
steel  trap. 

Diana  turned  crimson.  "Oh,"  she  said,  then  she 
swung  around  and  drew  her  arm  through  Miss  Sarah's 
thin  black  silk-clad  elbow,  that  was  like  the  hook  of 
a  grappling  iron.  "I  think  you  were  going?"  she 
cooed. 

The  old  lady  hesitated,  confused.  "I —  I—" 
•he  began. 

"Here's  the  carriage,"  said  Diana  sweetly,  and 
drew  her  out  of  the  door;  "there's  room  for  you, 
judge,"  she  called  back,  not  even  glancing  at  Trench. 

"I'll  walk,"  said  the  judge,  "I'm  a  young  man 
yet;  don!t  you  forget  it,  my  girl !" 

Diana  laughed.  "The  youngest  I  know,  in  heart," 
she  said,  and  waved  her  hand  as  they  drove  off. 

The  judge  looked  at  Caleb  soberly.  "You've  done 
it,  young  man,"  he  said  quietly. 

A  slow  painful  blush  went  up  to  Caleb's  hair. 
"So  be  it,"  he  said  bitterly.  "I'm  human  and  I've 
borne  all  I  can,"  and  he  turned  away.  "My  God!" 
he  added,  with  a  violence  so  unusual  and  so  heart- 
felt that  it  startled  the  judge,  "does  that  girl  think 
me  the  dirt  under  her  feet  because  I've  sold  ribbon? 
I  'm  a  gentleman ;  I  'm  as  well-born  and  as  well-bred 
as  she  is,  but  she  won't  recognize  it  —  more  than  half 


120  CALEB  TRENCH 

an  hour.  One  day  she 's  —  she 's  an  angel  of  courtesy 
and  kindness,  the  next  she  insults  me.  She  and 
Eaton  have  made  my  life  here  a  hell ! "  He  clenched 
his  hands  until  the  nails  bit  into  the  flesh. 

"She's  young,"  said  Judge  Hollis  slowly,  "and 
ill  advised." 

Trench  struggled  to  be  calm ;  his  face  paled  again, 
the  light  died  out  of  his  eyes.  "  Let  her  leave  me  in 
peace !"  he  cried  at  last. 

The  judge  drew  a  pattern  on  the  floor  with  his 
stick.  "She  admires  you  immensely,"  he  said  de- 
liberately, "and  she  respects  you." 

Trench  laughed  bitterly. 

The  judge  put  on  his  hat  again  and  held  out  his 
hand.  "I'll  give  you  the  odds  on  the  money,  Caleb," 
he  said,  "  but  I  'd  like  to  know  —  by  the  Lord  Harry, 
I  'd  like  to  know  —  what  Eaton 's  buying  niggers  for 
at  this  late  date?" 

He  got  no  answer.  Caleb's  face  was  as  set  as 
flint. 


XII 

SOMETIMES  early  in  the  morning,  and  often 
at  evening,  Caleb  Trench  took  long  walks  alone 
with  his  dog.  It  was  after  sunset,  in  the  sweet 
long  twilight  of  July,  that  he  came  up  through  the 
woods  behind  Colonel  Royall's  place,  and  approached 
the  long  elbow  of  the  road,  shadowed  by  the  tall 
walnuts  and  hickories,  and  clothed  here  and  there 
with  the  black-jack  oak.  Before  him  lay  the  beau- 
tiful valley.  He  could  see  the  curl  of  the  mist  below 
Paradise  Ridge,  and  beyond,  the  long  gray  folds  of 
the  distant  mountains.  He  looked  up  toward  the 
beaten  trail  that  led  to  Angel  Pass,  and  he  could 
perceive  the  fragrance  of  wild  magnolias. 

Shot,  who  was  running  ahead,  stopped  suddenly 
and  stood  at  attention,  one  shaggy  ear  erect.  Then 
Caleb  saw  the  gleam  of  a  white  dress,  and  Miss  Diana 
Royall  appeared,  walking  toward  them.  Over  her 
head  the  green  boughs  locked,  and  in  the  soft  light 
she  had  a  beauty  that  seemed  to  Trench  more  than 
the  right  of  a  girl  so  apparently  heartless.  He  would 
have  passed  by  the  other  road,  merely  raising  his 
hat,  but  she  called  to  him. 

"Good  evening,  Mr.  Trench,"  she  said,  with  that 
bewitching  little  drawl  of  hers,  which  made  her  voice 


122  CALEB  TRENCH 

almost  caressing  and  deceived  the  unwary.  "Your 
dog  remembers  me  more  often  than  you  do." 

Caleb's  face  stiffened.  Oh,  the  mockery  of  women ! 
"I  remember  you  more  often  than  you  remember 
me,"  he  replied  courteously. 

Diana  bit  her  lip.  She  had  not  expected  this,  and 
she  hated  him  for  it ;  yet  he  had  never  looked  so  strong 
and  fine  as  he  did  to-night.  In  the  soft  light  the 
harsh  lines  were  softened,  the  power  remained,  and 
something  of  sweetness  in  the  eyes.  "Oh,"  she  said, 
"have  I  ever  failed  to  remember  you?" 

Trench  made  no  direct  reply,  but  smiled.  Some- 
thing in  her  way,  at  the  moment,  was  very  girlish, 
the  whim  of  a  spoiled  child.  She  had  been  gathering 
some  ferns,  and  she  arranged  them  elaborately, 
standing  hi  the  path.  His  attitude  vexed  her,  his 
manner  was  so  detached;  she  was  accustomed  to 
adulation.  She  swept  him  a  look  from  under  her 
thick  dark  lashes.  "I  remember  dancing  with  you 
at  Kitty  Broughton's  ball,"  she  observed. 

"You  were  very  kind,"  he  replied  at  once,  "I  re- 
member it,  too ;  you  danced  with  me  twice." 

"Because  I  promised  to  dance  if  you  asked  me;  I 
promised  Judge  Hollis,"  she  said  demurely. 

"But  the  second?"  Caleb  was  human,  and  his 
heart  quickened  under  the  spell  of  her  beauty.  "I 
hope  that  was  on  my  own  account." 

"The  second?"  Diana  rearranged  the  ferns.  "I 
danced  then  because  my  cousin  did  not  wish  me  to," 
she  said. 


CALEB  TRENCH  123 

Trench  reddened.  "I  am  sorry  that  you  felt  com- 
pelled to  do  it  —  twice."  he  said  involuntarily,  for  he 
was  angry. 

"You  are  very  rude,"  replied  Diana,  unmoved. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  stiffly,  aware  that  he 
had  been  foolish  and  lost  his  temper;  "pray  for- 
give me." 

"  It 's  a  matter  of  no  consequence,"  she  said  sweetly. 

His  heart  was  filled  with  sudden  wrath.  Why  need 
the  girl  be  so  brutal?  He  did  not  know  that  Diana 
had  been  goaded  by  Mrs.  Eaton  and  Jacob  until  she 
was  beyond  reason;  besides,  his  manner,  which  de- 
fied her,  was  like  tossing  the  glove  at  her  feet.  He 
had  no  appreciation  of  her  condescension,  and  he 
did  not  bear  her  flouting  with  meekness.  Yet,  all 
the  while,  his  strength  and  his  repose  made  him 
immeasurably  more  interesting  than  the  young  men 
of  her  acquaintance,  which,  of  course,  was  another 
reason  to  be  unreasonable. 

"I  did  not  see  you  at  the  Wilton-Cheyneys," 
she  said  agreeably,  pressing  the  ferns  against  her 
cheek. 

"Quite  naturally,"  he  replied  coolly;  "I  was  not 
asked." 

"Oh!" 

There  was  a  silence.  The  sweet  soft  twilight 
seemed  to  enfold  them  with  a  touch  like  velvet;  a 
Bob  White  whistled  once  in  the  stillness. 

"MissRoyall." 

She  looked  up  with  her  soft  little  smile,  but  his 


124  CALEB  TRENCH 

face  froze  it  on  her  lips.  He  looked  stern  and  cold. 
"Yes?"  she  said,  faintly  startled. 

"Why  do  you  say  such  things  to  me?  You  know 
that  I'm  not  asked,  that  I'm  an  outsider.  A  poor 
Yankee  shopkeeper,  I  believe  your  set  calls  me;  I 
do  not  know.  Certainly  I  do  not  care;  a  man  must 
live,  you  know,  even  out  of  your  class.  I  have  a 
right  to  live.  I  also  have  a  right  to  my  own  pride. 
I  am  a  gentleman." 

They  stood  looking  at  each  other,  the  width  of 
the  woodland  path  between  them,  and  that  inde- 
finable, impalpable  thing  which  is  neither  sympathy 
nor  antagonism  but  which,  existing  once  between 
two  souls,  can,  never  be  forgotten,  —  a  white  flame 
that  burns  at  once  through  all  barriers  of  misun- 
derstanding, the  divine  spark  of  a  love  that  is  as  far 
beyond  commonplace  passion  as  the  soul  is  above 
the  body  that  it  must  leave  forever.  The  man  felt 
it  and  bowed  reluctantly  before  it ;  the  girl  struggled 
and  resisted. 

"If  I  did  not  know  that  you  were,"  she  said,  as 
quietly  as  she  could,  "I  would  not  be  here  talking 
to  you  now.  I'm  afraid  you  think  me  very  ill  man- 
nered. The  last  was  really  thoughtlessness." 

He  looked  at  her  relentlessly.    "But  the  first?" 

She  blushed  scarlet.    "I  —  I  did  not  mean  it." 

His  eyes  still  searched  her,  but  there  was  no  ten- 
derness in  them;  they  were  cold  and  gray.  "That 
is  not  quite  true,  Miss  Royall." 

Diana  winced;    she  felt  ten  years  old  and  knew 


CALEB  TRENCH  125 

it  was  her  own  fault.  "  I  think  it  is  you  who  are  rude 
now,"  she  said,  rallying,  "  but "  —  it  choked  her, 
she  held  out  her  hand  —  "let  us  be  friends." 

He  shook  his  head  slowly.  "No,"  he  said,  "that 
can't  be  until  you  are  sure  I  am  your  equal.  I've 
picked  up  crumbs  long  enough,  Miss  Royall,  —  for- 
give me." 

She  experienced  a  curious  feeling  of  defeat,  as  her 
hand  dropped  at  her  side.  She  was  angry,  yet  she 
admired  him  for  it.  She  remembered  that  night 
when  he  brought  the  hateful  six  pennies  and  she  had 
behaved  disgracefully.  Would  he  always  put  her  in 
the  wrong?  "I  am  sorry,"  she  said  haughtily;  "I 
was  offering  you  my  friendship." 

He  smiled  bitterly.  "Were  you,  or  mocking  me 
with  it?" 

"Mr.  Trench!" 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  but  with 
less  self-control,  "I  came  here  a  poor  man;  it  was 
necessary  to  make  my  bread,  and  I  would  have  swept 
offices  to  do  it.  I  asked  nothing  and  I  received "  — 
he  smiled  with  exceeding  bitterness  —  "nothing. 
Then,  unhappily,  Judge  Hollis  found  out  that  I  was 
well-born;  he  told  a  few  people  that  I  was  a  gentle- 
man. It  was  a  serious  mistake ;  I  have  been  treated 
like  a  dog  ever  since."  He  was  thrashing  the  way- 
side brush  with  his  stick,  and  unconsciously  be- 
headed a  dozen  flowers;  they  fell  at  Diana's  feet, 
but  neither  of  them  looked  down.  "I  do  not  wish 
to  force  myself  upon  your  acquaintance,  Miss  Royall," 


126  CALEB  TRENCH 

he  went  on,  the  torrent  of  pent-up  passion  unspent. 
"I  understand  the  reason  of  your  condescension  at 
the  ball,  but  could  n't  you  have  found  a  more  agree- 
able way  to  chastise  your  cousin?  I  must  have  been 
insufferable?" 

The  intensity  of  the  man's  wounded  pride  had 
forced  itself  upon  Diana;  she  was  crimson  with 
mortification,  yet  she  understood  him  —  understood 
him  with  a  temperamental  sympathy  that  sent  a 
thrill  of  alarm  through  her  consciousness.  "I  never 
knew  before  how  very  bad  my  manners  were,"  she 
said  simply. 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her.  All  that  was  womanly 
and  beautiful  in  her  face  was  crystallized  in  the  color- 
less atmosphere;  her  eyes  dwelt  upon  him  with  a 
kindness  that  was  at  once  new  and  wholly  unbear- 
able. "I'm  a  cub!"  he  retorted  harshly;  "how  you 
must  hate  me ! " 

"On  the  contrary,"  she  said  very  sweetly,  "I  like 
you." 

Their  eyes  met  with  a  challenge  of  angry  pride, 
then  a  whimsical  smile  quivered  at  the  corners  of  her 
mouth,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  innocently  over 
her  ferns.  "When  you  begin  to  like  me  we  shall  be 
friends,"  she  said. 

There  was  an  instant  of  awkward  silence,  and  then 
they  both  laughed,  not  happily,  but  with  a  nervous 
quiver  that  suggested  hysterical  emotion. 

"I  do  not  know  when  I  began  —  to  dislike  you," 
he  said. 


CALEB  TRENCH  127 

"I  deserved  it  from  the  first,  I  fancy,"  she  re- 
torted, hurrying  on  with  her  determination  to  show 
her  repentance;  "I  have  behaved  like  a  snob." 

He  did  not  reply;  he  stooped,  instead,  to  pick  up 
the  flowers  that  he  had  broken.  "My  mother  would 
never  step  on  a  flower  or  leave  it  to  die  in  the  road," 
he  explained  simply;  "whenever  I  remember  it  I 
pick  them  up.  As  a  boy  I  recollect  thinking  that 
there  was  some  significance  in  it,  that  I  must  not 
leave  them  to  die." 

Diana  looked  at  him  curiously,  from  under  her 
lashes.  What  manner  of  man  was  he?  "It  is  a 
sweet  thought,"  she  said,  "in  a  woman  —  a  tender- 
ness of  heart." 

"Her  heart  was  as  tender  as  her  soul  was  beau- 
tiful," said  Caleb  Trench;  "she  died  when  I  was 
twenty  years  old." 

Diana  held  out  her  hand.  "Will  you  give  me  the 
flowers?"  she  asked  simply. 

He  gave  them  with  a  slight  flush  of  surprise.  "  They 
are  poor  and  broken,"  he  apologized  lamely. 

"I  see  that  you  think  I  have  neither  a  heart  nor  a 
soul,"  she  replied. 

He  smiled.  "I  do  not  let  myself  think  of  either, 
Miss  Royall,"  he  said;  "I  fancy  that  a  wise  man  will 
always  avoid  the  dizzy  heights,  and  even  a  foolish 
one  will  see  a  precipice." 

Diana  was  silent;  that  she  understood  him  would 
have  been  apparent  to  the  initiated,  for  her  little  ears 
were  red,  but  the  proud  curve  of  her  lips  remained 


128  CALEB  TRENCH 

firm  and  the  steady  glance  of  her  eyes  rested  on  the 
darkening  valley.  The  hills  had  purpled  to  gray, 
the  sky  was  whitening,  and  hi  the  west  the  evening 
star  shone  like  a  point  of  flame. 

Out  of  the  stillness  her  voice  sounded  unusually 
soft  and  sweet.  "  I  'm  going  to  have  some  friends  to 
tea  to-morrow  afternoon,  Mr.  Trench,"  she  said; 
"will  you  come?" 

"No,"  he  replied,  and  then  added:  "Pardon  me, 
that  seems  discourteous,  but  I  am  not  going  out  again 
here,  Miss  Roy  all." 

Almost  involuntarily  she  smiled.  "We  are  playing 
the  game  of  tit-for-tat,  Mr.  Trench,  and  you've  won." 

"I  have  been  a  bear,"  he  replied,  "but  —  Miss 
Royall,  it's  growing  dark;  let  me  take  you  home." 

"I  am  waiting  for  my  cousin,"  she  replied,  and 
then  blushed  hotly.  "I  promised  to  wait  five  min- 
utes," she  explained  hastily,  "  while  he  talked  to  Mr. 
Saxton  at  the  farm.  I  suppose  it's  politics;  we've 
been  here  long  enough  to  quarrel  three  times." 

Trench  assumed  her  engagement  to  Jacob  Eaton 
and  would  not  offer  his  escort  a  second  time.  "  I  am 
taking  the  dog  through  the  woods,"  he  said;  "shall 
we  walk  as  far  as  the  farm  gate?" 

Diana  laughed  merrily.  "  I  never  went  in  search  of 
a  lost  knight  in  my  life,"  she  said.  "I'm  going  on: 
it's  quite  light  and  beautiful  yet  —  good  evening." 

Trench  swung  around.  "I  will  go  with  you,"  he 
said  at  once,  "if  you  will  permit  me." 

But  at  that  moment  Jacob  Eaton  came  up.    As 


CALEB  TRENCH  129 

he  recognized  Trench,  he  stopped  short  and  stared. 
Then  he  joined  Diana  without  acknowledging  her 
companion.  "Sorry  to  keep  you  waiting,"  he  said, 
"  but  the  old  fool  was  deaf.  We  may  as  well  go  on, 
Diana." 

But  Diana  stood  still.  "This  is  Mr.  Trench,"  she 
said. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other.  Eaton  had 
just  heard  more  of  what  Caleb  Trench  thought  of 
the  Land  Company,  but  he  knew  Diana. 

"How  d'  ye  do,"  he  said  curtly. 

Trench  made  no  reply.  Diana  gathered  up  the 
soft  white  folds  of  her  skirt  and  took  two  steps  away. 
"Good-night,  Jacob,"  she  said  sweetly,  "Mr.  Trench 
will  see  me  home.  Tell  Cousin  Jinny  I'll  bring  over 
the  terrapin  recipe  hi  the  morning." 

Jacob  said  nothing,  and  Trench  whistled  to  Shot. 
The  dog  came  bounding  and  followed  his  master  and 
Miss  Royall  down  the  path. 

Jacob  stood  stock-still  and  regarded  what  seemed 
to  him  the  beginning  of  miracles.  Was  it  possible 
that  Diana  was  in  open  rebellion  against  society? 
That  Diana  should  be  in  open  rebellion  against  him 
was  not  amazing.  She  was  wont  to  let  him  know 
that  he  was  a  mere  speck  on  the  horizon,  but  that  he 
regarded  as  pretty  coquetry,  and  of  no  consequence, 
because  he  intended  to  marry  Diana.  But  that 
Diana  should,  a  second  time,  prefer  Caleb  Trench  to 
him  was  beyond  belief,  and  that  she  should  do  it 
after  certain  revelations  that  he  had  just  heard,  was 

9 


130  CALEB  TRENCH 

adding  insult  to  injury,  for  Jacob  had  suddenly  found 
that  the  poor  Yankee  shopkeeper  lawyer  was  a  foe 
worthy  of  his  steel.  He  remained  a  long  time  motion- 
less, his  heavy  lids  drooping  over  his  eyes  and  his 
brows  meditative.  He  was,  after  all,  a  gentleman  of 
resources,  and  it  was  merely  a  question  of  how  to 
use  them. 


XIII 

IT  was  midnight  and  storming  hard  when  Dr. 
Cheyney  stopped  at  Caleb's  door.  Trench 
heard  the  wheels  and  opened  it  as  the  old  man 
climbed  down  from  his  high  buggy. 

"Caleb,  I've  come  for  brandy;  got  any?"  the 
doctor  said  briefly,  coming  in  with  his  head  bent  in 
the  rain;  his  rubber  coat  was  drawn  up  to  his  ears, 
and  the  tails  of  it  flapped  against  his  thin  legs. 

Trench  had  been  reading  late,  and  there  was  a  fire 
in  the  stove  hi  the  kitchen.  "Go  hi  and  get  dry  a 
moment,  Doctor,"  he  said,  "while  I  get  brandy.  It  's 
no  night  for  you,  and  at  this  hour  too;  your  friends 
must  remonstrate." 

"Damn  it,  sir,  am  I  not  the  doctor?"  said  the  old 
man,  lowering. 

"  You  're  that  and  something  more,  I  take  it," 
Caleb  replied,  smiling. 

"More?"  Dr.  Cheyney  was  out  of  temper.  "Nay, 
nay,  I  'in  just  a  plain  doctor,  and  I  can  take  care  of 
both  your  big  toes.  These  new-fangled  ones  can't, 
sir,  that 's  all !  It 's  the  fashion  now  to  have  a  doc- 
tor for  your  nose  and  another  for  your  toes  and  a 
third  for  your  stomach.  Very  good,  let  'em !  I  do  it 
all  and  don't  get  paid  for  it ;  that 's  the  difference." 


132  CALEB  TRENCH 

"They  do,"  said  Caleb,  producing  a  flask  of  brandy. 

The  doctor  took  it  and  thrust  it  deep  into  his  big 
outside  pocket.  "I  '11  pay  you  when  I  get  ready,"  he 
said  dryly. 

Trench  laughed.  He  heard  the  swirl  of  the  rain 
against  the  window-panes;  it  was  nearly  as  bad  as 
the  day  he  had  sheltered  Diana.  He  looked  keenly 
at  the  worn  little  old  man  and  saw  the  streams  of 
water  that  had  streaked  his  coat.  "I  have  a  great 
mind  to  shut  you  up  and  keep  you  all  night,"  he 
remarked. 

"For  a  ransom?"  said  the  doctor  grimly;  "you 
would  n't  get  it.  Caleb,  that  poor  girl,  Jean  Bartlett, 
is  dying." 

Trench  was  startled.  "  I  did  n't  know  she  was  ill," 
he  replied;  "Zeb  came  here  and  whined  for  money 
when  the  grandmother  died  so  suddenly,  but  he  said 
nothing  of  Jean." 

"He  never  does,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  "the  young 
brute!" 

"Are  you  going  there  now?"  Caleb  asked. 

"Yep,"  replied  the  doctor  briefly;  "I  wanted  more 
brandy,  for  I  'm  like  to  catch  my  death,  but  I  must 
be  about,  —  she  's  dying.  She  may  pull  through 
until  morning.  Pneumonia  —  a  cold  that  last  bad 
storm.  She  lay  out  in  the  field  half  the  night.  She  '3 
done  it  a  hundred  times  when  they  harried  her ;  this 
time  it 's  killed  her.  She  's  not  twenty." 

Caleb  reached  for  his  hat.  "  I  'm  going  with  you," 
he  said  simply. 


CALEB  TRENCH  133 

Dr.  Cheyney  threw  him  one  of  his  shrewd  looks. 
"Afraid  to  trust  me  alone  in  the  wet?"  he  asked 
dryly. 

Caleb  smiled.  "To  tell  you  the  truth  I  was  think- 
ing of  Sammy.  The  poor  little  dirty  beggar  appeals 
to  me,  he  's  thoroughly  boy,  in  spite  of  his  curious 
clothes,  and  Zeb  is  a  drunken  brute." 

The  doctor  grunted  and  went  out,  making  room 
for  Caleb  at  his  side  in  the  buggy.  "  I  'm  going  to 
send  Sammy  to  St.  Vincent's,"  he  said. 

"  Poor  Sammy !"  said  Caleb. 

The  doctor  clucked,  and  old  Henk  moved  off, 
splashing  through  muddy  water  up  to  his  fetlocks. 
The  road  was  dark,  and  the  doctor  had  swung  a  lan- 
tern between  the  back-wheels,  a  custom  dear  to  rural 
communities;  it  swung  there,  casting  a  dismal  flare 
under  the  buggy,  which  looked  like  a  huge  lightning- 
bug,  with  fire  at  its  tail. 

"Good  enough  for  him!"  continued  the  doctor 
bluntly,  referring  to  Sammy  and  the  foundling 
asylum. 

"Plenty,"  assented  Caleb,  unmoved. 

This  angered  the  doctor,  as  Caleb  knew  it  would. 

"Little  brat!"  growled  William  Cheyney  fiercely, 
"what  was  he  born  for?  Foundling  asylum,  of 
course!" 

"Of  course,"  agreed  Caleb,  and  smiled  in  the 
darkness. 

"  Damn ! "  said  the  doctor. 

They  traveled  on  through  the  night;    the  wind 


134  CALEB  TRENCH 

swept  the  boughs  down,  and  the  rain  drove  in  their 
faces  even  under  the  hood. 

"I  can't  take  him,  drat  it!"  the  old  man  broke 
out  again  fiercely.  "  I  've  boarded  for  sixty  years ; 
women  are  varmints,  good  women,  I  mean,  and  the 
Colfaxes  would  n't  take  Sammy  for  a  day  to  save  his 
soul ;  he 's  a  child  of  shame." 

Caleb  laughed  silently;  he  felt  the  doctor's  tower- 
ing wrath.  "After  all,  wouldn't  it  be  a  purgatory 
for  a  small  boy  to  live  with  the  Colfaxes?"  he  asked. 

"Yep,"  said  the  doctor,  "it  would.  Miss  Maria 
pins  papers  over  the  cracks  hi  the  parlor  blinds  to 
keep  the  carpet  from  fading,  and  Miss  Lucinda  dusts 
my  office  twice  a  day,  for  which  she  ought  to  be  hung ! 
I  reckon  they  'd  make  divided  skirts  for  Sammy  and 
a  frilled  nightgown." 

"There  are  the  Children's  Guardians  in  the  city," 
suggested  Caleb  thoughtfully. 

"There  's  the  Reform  School,"  retorted  the  doctor 
bitingly. 

Meanwhile  old  Henk  traveled  on,  gaining  in  speed, 
for  part  of  the  road  was  on  his  way  home  and  he 
coveted  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt.  The  splashing  of 
his  feet  in  the  mire  kept  time  with  the  sob  of  the  gale. 
Nearer  and  nearer  drew  the  light  in  Jean  Bartlett's 
window. 

"I  told  the  Royalls  she  was  dying,"  Dr.  Cheyney 
said,  "  and  to-day  Diana  was  there.  She  sat  with  her 
an  hour  and  tried  to  quiet  her.  Jean  was  raving  and, 
at  last,  I  ordered  the  girl  away ;  she  'd  no  business 


CALEB  TRENCH  135 

worrying  in  such  a  scene  as  that;  then  she  told  me 
she  would  take  Sammy !  She  —  Diana ! "  the  old 
man  flung  out  his  free  hand  and  beat  the  air,  "that 
girl!  I  wanted  to  shake  her.  Yet,  it's  like  her; 
she  's  got  heart." 

Caleb  Trench,  sitting  back  in  his  corner,  summoned 
up  a  picture  of  the  old  man  and  Diana,  and  could  not 
quite  reconcile  it  with  the  Diana  he  knew.  "  You  did 
not  shake  her,"  he  said;  "what  did  you  do?" 

"Sent  her  home,"  said  the  doctor  bluntly,  "drat 
it  I  Do  you  think  a  girl  of  her  age  ought  to  start  a 
foundling  asylum  for  charity's  sake?  I  told  her  her 
father  would  have  her  ears  boxed,  and  she  laughed  in 
my  face.  David  Royall  worships  her,  but,  Lordy,  not 
even  David  would  tolerate  that ! " 

A  low  bough  scraped  the  top  of  the  carriage  and 
they  jogged  on.  Presently,  old  Henk  stopped  un- 
willingly and  they  got  down,  a  little  wet  and  stiff, 
and  went  silently  into  the  house.  It  was  stricken 
silent,  too,  except  for  the  ticking  of  a  clock  in  the 
kitchen,  and  that  sounded  to  Caleb  like  a  minute 
gun ;  it  seemed  to  tick  all  through  the  house,  —  the 
three  small  rooms  below,  the  rickety  stairs  and  the 
attic  above.  There  was  a  light  in  the  kitchen,  and 
there,  on  top  of  some  old  quilts  in  a  packing  box, 
lay  Sammy  asleep. 

In  the  room  beyond  the  kitchen,  in  the  middle  of 
the  great,  old-fashioned  four-poster,  that  was  worn 
and  scratched  and  without  a  valance,  lay  Jean  Bart- 
lett.  Her  fair  hair  streamed  across  the  pillow,  her 


136  CALEB  TRENCH 

thin  arms  lay  extended  on  either  side,  her  chin  was 
up,  she  lay  as  if  on  a  cross,  and  she  was  dead. 

From  the  far  corner  rose  the  woman  whom  the 
doctor  had  left  to  watch  her.  "She's  just  gone, 
doctor,"  she  said  laconically,  without  emotion. 

Dr.  Cheyney  shot  a  look  at  her  from  under  his 
eyebrows,  and  went  over  to  look  at  Jean.  The  light 
from  the  poor  little  lamp  fell  full  on  her  thin  small- 
featured  face  and  showed  it  calm ;  she  was  as  pretty  as 
a  child  and  quite  happy  looking. 

"Thank  God!"  said  the  doctor,  "that's  over. 
Where  's  Zeb?" 

"Up-stairs,  drunk,"  said  the  woman;  "if  it  warn't 
raining  so  hard  I  'd  go." 

The  doctor  looked  over  his  spectacles.  "Then 
you  '11  take  the  child  along,"  he  said  gravely. 

"That  I  won't!"  said  she,  "I  've  children  of  my 
own.  I  won't  have  none  such  as  him." 

"Oh,  you  won't?"   exclaimed  the  old  man. 

"I  thought  you  'd  take  him,"  said  she,  reddening. 

"There  are  two  women  folks  up  at  the  house,"  said 
the  doctor  dryly ;  "  being  a  nameless  child  —  out  he 
goes ! " 

"Well,  I  don't  care,"  said  the  nurse  fiercely,  "I 
feel  so  myself;  there  's  the  foundling  asylum." 

"  He  '11  fall  on  the  stove  here  in  the  morning,"  re- 
marked the  doctor. 

The  woman  shut  her  mouth. 

"  Zeb  's  drunk,"  the  old  man  added. 

"I  won't  take  him,"  she  said  flatly;  "if  I  do,  no- 


CALEB  TRENCH  137 

body  '11  take  him  away.  It 's  the  same  with  a  baby 
as  it  is  with  a  stray  kitten,  once  you  take  it  you  keep 
it.  I  ain't  goin'  to  take  Jean  Bartlett's  brat." 

"Don't!"  snapped  the  doctor,  "for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven !" 

Then  he  went  out,  turning  his  collar  up  again  to 
his  ears.  "I  'm  going  for  the  undertaker,  Caleb." 

They  stopped  as  he  spoke  and  looked  down  at 
Jean's  boy.  He  lay  with  his  arm  across  his  face;  he 
had  not  been  undressed  and  one  foot  hung  pendent 
in  a  forlorn  and  heelless  shoe. 

"The  end  of  the  drama,"  commented  the  doctor 
dryly,  "the  sufferer." 

Caleb  stooped  down  and  gently  lifted  the  sleeping 
child;  he  wrapped  the  old  quilt  about  him,  and  bore 
him  to  the  door.  The  doctor  followed,  then  he 
reached  over  and  put  his  hand  on  the  latch. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"I  've  taken  him,"  said  Trench  calmly;  "open  the 
door." 

"  You  've  no  one  to  care  for  him."  Dr.  Cheyney 
eyed  him  keenly. 

"No,"  he  replied;  "so  much  the  better,  the  place 
Is  lonely. " 

"You  know  what  they  '11  say?" 

The  young  man's  face  stiffened.    "What?" 

"That  he  's  your  child,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Open  the  door,"  said  Caleb  Trench. 

The  doctor  opened  it,  then  Trench  stood  straight, 
Sammy's  tousled  head  on  his  shoulder. 


138  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Dr.  Cheyney,"  he  said  sternly,  "if  every  stone  in 
Paradise  Ridge  rose  up  to  accuse  me,  I  'd  still  do  as 
I  pleased." 

William  Cheyney  smiled  grimly.  "I  believe  you 
would,"  he  said,  "  but  let  me  tell  you,  Caleb,  you  Ve 
got  your  fate  by  the  forelock  now !" 

Yet  he  helped  Trench  put  the  sleeping  child  into 
the  carriage,  and  as  they  did  it  a  new  sound  gurgled 
into  the  night,  the  voice  of  the  tippler  in  the  attic, 
who  had  been  shut  up  there  alone  and  frightened, 
but  was  sipping  and  sipping  to  keep  up  his  spirits. 
Now  he  sang,  one  kind  of  spirits  rising  as  the  other 
kind  went  down.  And  the  song  that  followed  them 
through  the  night,  as  they  drove  away  from  the  house 
of  death,  with  the  nameless  child  between  them,  was 
"After  the  Ball." 

"The  Lord  forgive  us !"  said  the  doctor  musingly; 
"it 's  'after  the  ball'  with  most  of  us,  and  then  the 
straight  house !  G'long  with  you,  Henk ! " 


XIV 

JUNIPER'S  spouse,  Aunt  Charity,  was  in  the 
habit  of  sweeping  out  Caleb's  office  and  washing 
his  windows,  and  the  morning  after  Jean  Bart- 
lett's  death  was  her  morning  for  scouring  the  prem- 
ises. She  was  a  stout  old  woman,  nearly  black,  with 
a  high  pompadour,  the  arms  and  shoulders  of  a  stone- 
mason, and  "a  mighty  misery"  in  her  side.  She 
stopped  five  times  in  the  course  of  sweeping  the  inner 
office  and  stood,  leaning  on  her  broom,  to  survey 
the  bundle  of  indiscriminate  clothes  on  the  floor, 
which  was  Sammy. 

The  transfer  had  disturbed  him  so  little  that,  after 
his  first  screams  of  surprise,  he  had  renewed  his  in- 
satiable demands  for  pennies,  and  having  one  clasped 
tightly  in  either  fist  he  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  floor 
viewing  the  world  hi  general,  and  Aunt  Charity  in 
particular,  with  the  suspicion  of  a  financier.  On  her 
side,  suspicion  was  equally  apparent. 

"Fo'  de  Lawdl"  she  said,  and  swept  another 
half  yard,  then  stopped  and  viewed  the  intruder. 
"Fo'  de  Lawd!"  she  said  again. 

Sammy  heard  her  and  clasped  his  pennies  tighter; 
he  read  enmity  in  her  eye  and  doubted.  Aunt 
Charity  swept  harder,  her  broom  approaching  the 


140  CALEB  TRENCH 

rear  end  of  Sammy's  calico  petticoat.  "Git  up,  yo' 
white  trash,  yo',"  she  commanded,  using  the  broom 
to  emphasize  her  order. 

"Won't!"  wailed  Sammy,  "won't!  Shan't  have 
my  pennies ! " 

"Git  up !"  said  Aunt  Charity;  " w'at  yo'  heah  for, 
ennyway?" 

"  Yow !"  yelled  Sammy,  wriggling  along  before  the 
broom  and  weeping. 

On  this  scene  entered  Caleb  Trench,  grave,  some- 
what weary,  and  with  a  new  stern  look  that  came 
from  a  night's  wrestle  with  his  own  will.  "What  'a 
all  this,  Aunt  Charity?" 

"Ain't  noffin,"  said  she  aggressively;  "I'se 
sweepin.'  I  ain't  doin'  noffin  an'  I  ain't  gwine  ter  do 
noffin  to  dat  pore  white  trash." 

"Yes,  you  will,"  said  Caleb  calmly;  "you'll  give 
him  a  bath  and  put  some  decent  clothes  on  him." 

"  N-o-o-o-o-o ! "  shrieked  Sammy. 

"'Deed  I  ain't!"  retorted  Aunt  Charity,  with  in- 
dignation. "Ain't  dat  Jean  Bartlett's  chile?" 

Trench  nodded,  looking  from  the  old  black  woman 
to  the  small  aggressive  bundle  on  the  floor.  Aunt 
Charity  tossed  her  head.  "I  ain't  gwine  ter  touch 
him!" 

-A  sudden  fierce  light  shone  in  Caleb's  gray  eyes, 
a  light  that  had  a  peculiarly  quelling  effect  on  the 
beholder.  Aunt  Charity  met  it  and  cowered,  clasping 
her  broom.  "  You  '11  do  what  I  say,"  he  replied, 
without  raising  his  voice. 


CALEB  TRENCH  141 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd ! "  gasped  Aunt  Charity  and  whim- 
pered; "yo'  sho  ain't  gwine  ter  keep  dat  chile  heah?" 

"And  why  not?"  asked  Caleb. 

"Lawsy  me,  suh,  ain't  yo'  gwine  ter  know  w'at 
folks  '11  say?  Dere  's  gwine  ter  be  a  talkation." 

"  Very  likely,  poor  little  devil ! "  Caleb  retorted 
grimly,  "  and  your  tongue  to  help  it,  but  you  'd 
better  hold  it,  Charity ;  you  're  here  to  do  what  I 
want  —  or  to  go  elsewhere,  see?" 

"Yass,  suh,"  she  replied  hastily,  "I'se  gwine  ter 
do  it,  but  I  sure  wishes  yo'd  let  me  take  de  chile 
where  he  b'longs." 

"Where  he  belongs?"  Caleb  turned  sharply. 

"I  ain't  sayin',"  cried  Aunt  Charity,  thoroughly 
frightened,  "  I  ain't  saying  —  "  Then  she  stopped 
with  her  mouth  open,  for  she  had  seen  the  figure  in 
the  outer  room  that  Caleb  did  not  see. 

Her  look  made  him  turn,  however,  to  come  face  to 
face  with  Jacob  Eaton.  He  went  out  and  closed  the 
door  on  the  inner  office  sharply,  not  conscious  that 
Aunt  Charity  promptly  dropped  on  her  knees  and 
put  her  eye  to  the  keyhole. 

Meanwhile,  the  two  men  measured  each  other  with 
peculiar  enmity.  Jacob  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
pockets  and  stood  smiling,  a  smooth  face  but  not  a 
pleasant  one. 

"I  came  to  see  you  on  a  matter  of  business,"  he 
drawled,  "but  I'm  afraid  I  disturb  you."  He  had 
seen  the  scene  hi  the  inner  room. 

Caleb's  height  was  greater  than  his,  and  he  looked 


142  CALEB  TRENCH 

down  at  him  with  an  inscrutable  face;  his  temper 
was  quick,  but  he  had  the  rare  advantage  of  not 
showing  it. 

"  I  am  quite  at  leisure,"  he  said  coldly,  without  the 
slightest  attempt  at  courtesy. 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  reading  your  Cresset  speech," 
said  Jacob  amusedly,  "and  I  regret  that  I  didn't 
hear  it.  I  congratulate  you,  it  was  excellent  reading." 

Trench  looked  at  him  keenly.  "You  didn't  come 
here  this  morning  to  tell  me  that,"  he  said.  "Come, 
Mr.  Eaton,  what  is  it?" 

"No,"  said  Jacob,  still  smiling,  "I  did  n't  come  for 
that,  you  're  right.  I  came  to  make  a  business 
proposition." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Trench  made  no  reply. 
Jacob  began  to  find,  instead,  that  his  silence  was  a 
peculiar  and  compelling  weapon. 

"You  have  made  me  the  butt  of  your  speeches," 
he  continued,  with  his  first  touch  of  anger,  "  and  your 
attacks  are  chiefly  aimed  at  the  Land  Company  of 
which  I  am  the  president.  I  suppose  you  are  fully 
aware  of  this?" 

Caleb  smiled  involuntarily.  "I  could  not  be  un- 
aware," he  observed. 

"Then,  perhaps,  you  are  not  unaware  of  what  I 
came  for,"  Jacob  said. 

"Possibly,"  replied  Trench,  folding  his  arms  and 
leaning  back  against  the  wall,  and  studying  Eaton 
with  a  coolly  indifferent  scrutiny  that  brought  the 
color  to  Jacob's  face. 


CALEB  TRENCH  143 

"Ah,  you  have  probably  been  expecting  my  visit?" 
he  said;  "in  other  words,  I  suppose  you  've  had  an 
object  in  stirring  up  this  excitement,  in  directing 
this  attack  upon  me." 

"I  have  undoubtedly  had  an  object,"  Caleb  Trench 
replied,  after  a  moment's  silence. 

Jacob's  smile  was  a  sneer.  "We  're  business  men, 
Mr.  Trench,"  he  said;  "I'm  here  this  morning  to 
know  the  size  of  that  object." 

Caleb  moved  slightly,  but  his  arms  were  still  folded 
on  his  breast  and  he  still  leant  against  the  wall;  his 
cool,  unwinking  gaze  began  to  dash  Eaton's  com- 
posure; he  could  not  be  the  finished  and  superior 
gentleman  he  thought  himself,  under  those  relentless 
eyes.  He  shifted  his  own  position  restlessly,  drawing 
nearer  to  his  adversary. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "name  your  price." 

"My  what?"  demanded  Trench. 

"Your  price,"  Eaton  sneered  openly,  his  smooth 
face  crimson.  In  some  way,  to  his  own  conscious- 
ness, he  seemed  to  be  shrinking  into  insignificance 
before  the  other  man's  strong  personality,  his  force, 
his  coolness. 

"Do  you  suppose,  because  I  have  sold  goods  and 
handled  merchandise,  that  I  am  also  on  a  level  with 
my  trade?"  Caleb  asked  coolly,  so  coolly  that  Jacob 
was  blinded  to  his  peril. 

"You  are  a  trader,"  said  he  bitingly,  "a  petty 
tradesman  and  a  petty  politician;  as  such  you  have 
your  price." 


144  CALEB  TRENCH 

Caleb  turned  his  face  full  toward  him,  and  sud- 
denly Eaton  realized  the  terrible  light  in  his  eyes. 
"You  lie,"  he  said  slowly,  deliberately,  each  word 
like  a  slap  in  the  face ;  "  you  are  a  liar." 

Jacob  sprang  at  him,  fury  hi  his  own  face,  and 
prudence  gone.  But  as  he  sprang  Trench  met  him 
with  a  blow  straight  from  the  shoulder.  It  caught 
Eaton  fairly  and  sent  him  sprawling,  full  length  on 
the  floor. 

"By  the  Lord  Harry,  you  got  it,  Jacob!"  cried 
Judge  Hollis  from  the  door,  where  he  had  appeared 
unheard. 

As  Jacob  rose  foaming,  Caleb  saw  Aaron  Todd's 
head  behind  the  judge,  and  after  him  Peter  Mahan. 

There  was  no  time  to  speak.  Eaton  flew  at  him 
again,  his  head  down,  and  for  the  second  time  Caleb 
landed  him  on  his  back.  Then  the  judge  intervened. 

"That's  enough,"  he  said  dryly.  "I  reckon  he 
needed  it,  but  he  's  got  it.  Get  up,  Jacob,  and  keep 
quiet." 

But  Jacob  would  not;  he  got  up  to  his  feet  again 
and  made  a  rush  forward,  only  to  find  himself  clasped 
tight  hi  Aaron  Todd's  strong  arms. 

"  Be  quiet,"  said  Todd,  "  you  '11  go  down  again  like 
a  sack  of  salt,  you  idiot !  You  're  too  full  of  booze 
to  risk  a  blow  on  your  solar  plexis." 

Eaton  swore.  "  Let  me  go,"  he  said,  "  do  you  think 
I  '11  take  it  from  that  fellow?  You  're  a  prize-fighter ! " 
he  added  between  his  teeth,  lowering  at  Trench,  and 
wriggling  helplessly  in  Aaron's  arms,  "you're  a 


CALEB  TRENCH  145 

common  prize-fighter ;  if  you  were  a  gentleman  you  'd 
settle  it  with  pistols !" 

"Tut,  tut !"  said  the  judge. 

"I  will,  if  you  like,"  said  Caleb  coolly,  his  own 
wrath  cooled  by  victory. 

Jacob's  eyes  flashed ;  he  was  a  noted  shot.  "  I  '11 
send  some  one  to  you  later,"  he  said,  the  perspiration 
standing  out  on  his  forehead,  as  he  wrenched  himself 
from  Todd's  arms. 

"I  've  a  mind  to  report  you  both  to  Judge  Ladd," 
said  Judge  Hollis,  but  his  fiery  old  soul  loved  the 
smoke  of  battle. 

Jacob,  panting  and  disheveled,  reached  for  his 
hat.  "It  will  be  to-morrow,"  he  said,  "and  with 
pistols  —  if  you  consent." 

Caleb  looked  at  Todd  and  Mahan.  "Will  you 
represent  me,  gentlemen?"  he  asked  quietly,  some- 
thing like  a  glint  of  humor  in  his  eyes. 

Todd  nodded,  and  Peter  Mahan,  a  keen-visaged 
Irish  Yankee,  beamed.  To  his  soul  a  battle  was  the 
essence  of  life,  and  a  duel  was  not  unreasonable  west 
of  the  Mississippi. 

"Folly,"  said  Judge  Hollis,  secretly  exultant, 
"rotten  folly;  let  it  drop." 

Jacob  turned  at  the  door,  his  face  livid.  "Not 
till  I  Ve  sent  him  to  hell,"  he  said,  and  walked  out. 

The  judge  brought  his  fist  down  on  his  knee.  "By 
the  Lord  Harry,"  he  said,  "it  was  this  day  twenty- 
odd  years  ago  that  Yarnall  shot  Jacob's  father." 

"I  shan't  shoot  Jacob,"  said  Caleb  dryly. 
10 


146  CALEB  TRENCH 

Judge  Hollis  turned  quickly.  "What  do  you 
mean?"  he  began,  but  was  interrupted. 

The  door  between  the  rooms  opened  suddenly,  after 
much  restless  but  unnoticed  wriggling  of  the  knob, 
and  Sammy,  in  his  plaid  petticoat  and  his  brass- 
buttoned  jacket,  came  in  on  wobbly  legs.  He  stopped 
abruptly  and  viewed  the  group,  finger  in  mouth. 

"My  God,  what 's  that?"  exclaimed  Judge  Hollis 
blankly. 

Caleb  laughed.  "My  ward,"  he  said,  and  then  he 
looked  up  and  met  three  pairs  of  curious  eyes.  "  It 's 
Jean  Bartlett's  child,"  he  explained  simply;  "she 
died  last  night,  and  Dr.  Cheyney  threatened  the 
Foundling  Asylum,  so  I  just  brought  the  kid  here; 
there  's  room." 

Judge  Hollis  leaned  forward,  both  hands  on  his 
knees,  and  viewed  the  child.  "What  did  you  do  it 
for,  Caleb?"  he  asked,  in  the  midst  of  the  pause. 

"  Heaven  knows ! "  said  Caleb,  smiling,  as  he  filled 
his  pipe.  "I  fancy  because  the  poor  little  devil  had 
no  home,  and  I  've  known  what  it  was  to  want  one." 

The  judge  rubbed  his  chin.     "  I  'm  beat ! "  he  said. 

The  other  two  men  looked  on  silently  while  Caleb 
lit  his  pipe.  Sammy  picked  up  the  judge's  cane  from 
the  floor  and  tried  slowly  and  solemnly  to  swallow 
the  gold  knob  on  the  top  of  it.  The  judge  sank 
slowly  back  into  his  chair,  the  old  worn  leather 
chair.  "And  there  '11  be  a  duel  to-morrow!"  he  re- 
marked; then,  looking  at  the  child,  he  added  feel- 
ingly, "It  beats  the  band!" 


XV 


THE  time  for  the  duel  was  an  hour  before  sun- 
rise the  following  day,  and  to  Caleb  Trench, 
the  Quaker,  it  was  a  gross  absurdity.     He 
had  knocked  down  Jacob  Eaton  as  he  would  have 
knocked  down  any  man  who  insulted  him,  and  he 
would  have  fought  Jacob  with  his  fists,  but  to  shoot 
him  down  in  cold  blood  was  another  matter;    not 
that  Trench  was  over  merciful  toward  a  man  like 
Eaton,  nor  that  he  lacked  the  rancor,  for  an  insult 
lingers  in  the  blood  like  slow  poison. 

Eaton  had  selected  two  young  men  from  the  city, 
and  the  cartel  had  been  delivered  with  all  the  care 
and  joy  of  an  unusual  entertainment.  To  Aaron 
Todd,  the  farmer,  it  was  a  matter  as  ridiculous  as  it 
was  to  Trench,  though  he  could  understand  two  men 
drawing  their  weapons  on  each  other  in  a  moment  of 
disagreement.  But  Peter  Mahan  loved  it  as  dearly 
as  did  Willis  Broughton,  a  grand-nephew,  by  the 
way,  of  old  Judge  Hollis.  The  place  chosen  was 
Little  Neck  Meadow,  and  the  seconds  made  their 
arrangements  without  any  personal  qualms.  A  fight, 
after  all,  in  that  broad  southwestern  country  was  like 
the  salt  on  a  man's  meat. 
Meanwhile  the  news  that  Caleb  Trench  had  taken 


148  CALEB  TRENCH 

in  Jean  Bartlett's  child  dropped  like  a  stone  in  a  still 
pool,  sending  the  ripples  of  gossip  eddying  into  wider 
circles  until  the  edges  of  the  puddle  broke  in  muddy 
waves,  for  no  one  had  ever  really  known  who  was  the 
father  of  Jean's  boy.  So,  before  Caleb  rose  at  day- 
break, to  go  to  Little  Neck  Meadow,  his  adoption  of 
Sammy  was  as  famous  as  his  Cresset  speech,  and  as 
likely  to  bear  unexpected  fruits. 

Old  Judge  Hollis  had  remonstrated  against  both 
the  child  and  the  duel,  but  not  so  warmly  against  the 
last  as  the  first,  and  when  he  went  away  there  was  a 
new  look  in  his  eyes.  After  all,  what  manner  of  man 
was  the  shopkeeping  lawyer  of  the  Cross  Roads? 
The  judge  shook  his  head,  wondering;  wondering, 
also,  that  he  loved  him,  for  he  did.  The  power  of 
Caleb  Trench  lay  deeper  than  the  judge's  plummet, 
and,  perhaps,  it  was  that  which  lent  the  sudden 
sweetness  to  his  rare  smile. 

But  there  was  no  smile  on  Caleb's  face  when  he 
went  out,  in  the  white  mist  of  the  morning,  to  fight 
Jacob  Eaton  with  pistols.  He  took  the  woodland  road 
on  foot,  alone,  for  he  had  sent  his  strangely  assorted 
seconds  ahead  of  him.  As  he  walked  he  was  chiefly 
aware  of  the  soft  beauty  of  the  morning  under  the 
trees,  and  he  caught  the  keen  glint  of  light  on  the 
slender  stem  of  a  silver  birch  that  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  path,  and  he  heard  the  chirp  of  a  song  sparrow. 
A  scarlet  hooded  woodpecker  was  climbing  the  trunk 
of  the  tall  hickory  as  he  passed,  and  a  ground  squirrel 
dashed  across  the  trail.  Caleb  walked  on,  thinking 


CALEB  TRENCH  149 

a  little  of  the  possibility  of  death,  and  a  great  deal  of 
the  gross  incongruity  of  his  act  with  his  life  and  his 
parentage.  Through  the  soft  light  he  seemed  to  see 
his  mother's  face,  and  the  miracle  of  her  love  touched 
him  again.  At  heart  he  was  simple,  as  all  great 
natures  are,  and  tender;  he  could  not  have  left  Jean 
Bartlett's  child  in  the  woodbox.  Yet  he  had  no 
mind  to  show  that  side  of  his  nature,  for  he  was  shy 
in  his  feelings,  and  he  had  borne  the  hurt  of  solitude 
and  neglect  long  and  in  silence;  silence  is  a  habit, 
too,  and  bears  fruit. 

He  walked  slowly,  looking  through  the  trees  at  the 
river  which,  now  before  sunrise,  was  the  color  of  lead, 
with  a  few  ghostly  lily-pads  floating  at  its  edges. 
Beyond,  he  saw  the  high  swamp  grass  that  fringed 
the  edge  of  the  delta ;  below  lay  Little  Neck  Meadow. 
The  other  thought  that  haunted  him,  the  picture  of 
Diana  in  the  old  leather  chair  beside  his  own  hearth- 
stone, with  the  kindling  glow  of  the  wood  fire  on  her 
face,  he  thrust  resolutely  aside.  After  all,  he  was 
nothing  to  Diana  but  the  petty  tradesman  of  Eshcol, 
and  now  —  if  she  knew  —  the  intending  murderer 
of  her  kinsman.  Yet  it  was  Diana  who  walked  before 
him  along  the  narrowing  path.  Thus  do  our  emotions 
play  us  tricks  to  our  undoing,  even  in  life's  most 
vital  moments. 

But  to  the  group  waiting  in  the  meadow,  Caleb 
Trench  appeared  as  unmoved  as  stone.  He  was 
prompt  to  the  moment  and  accepted  their  arrange- 
ments without  a  question. 


150  CALEB  TRENCH 

Afterwards  Aaron  Todd  told  the  story  of  the  duel 
at  the  tavern.  Eaton  and  his  seconds  were  in  fault- 
less attire  and  eager  for  the  fray.  At  the  last  moment 
Todd  had  sent  for  Dr.  Cheyney;  his  early  arrival 
meant  an  explosion  against  dueling,  and  no  one 
thought  of  waiting  for  him  except  Peter  Mahan. 

It  ended  hi  the  two  taking  their  places  just  as  the 
whole  eastern  sky  ran  into  molten  gold;  it  lacked 
but  a  few  moments,  therefore,  of  sunrise,  and  there 
was  still  a  light  mist. 

Jacob  Eaton,  who  was  a  noted  shot,  had  been 
drinking  the  night  before,  against  the  best  efforts  of 
his  friends.  Trench  stood  like  a  pillar  of  stone.  The 
word  was  given,  and  both  men  raised  their  weapons. 
Jacob  fired  and  missed,  then  Caleb  very  deliberately 
fired  in  the  air.  He  had  never  even  glanced  at  his 
challenger.  It  was  at  this  that  Jacob  Eaton  lost  his 
temper  and  his  wits  and  fired  again,  deliberately 
attempting  to  shoot  down  his  enemy.  The  bullet 
went  through  Caleb's  left  arm,  missing  his  heart,  and 
Willis  Broughton  threw  himself  upon  Eaton  and 
disarmed  him. 

When  Dr.  Cheyney  came,  Caleb  had  tied  up  his 
own  arm  with  Todd's  help,  and  was  the  calmest  per- 
son there.  Eaton  was  hustled  off  the  field  by  his 
seconds,  and  the  story  —  told  a  hundred  ways  — 
was  thrown  into  the  campaign. 

Old  Dr.  Cheyney  drove  Caleb  home.  "I  reckon 
the  fool  killer  was  n't  out  this  morning,"  he  remarked 
dryly,  as  he  set  him  down  before  the  office  door,  "or 


CALEB  TRENCH  151 

else  he  only  winged  you  out  of  compassion.  Caleb 
Trench,  for  a  man  of  common  horse  sense,  you  can  be 
the  biggest  fool  west  of  the  Mississippi.  Adopted 
Sammy,  I  suppose?"  he  added,  cocking  an  eyebrow 
aggressively. 

Trench  smiled.    "Might  as  well,"  he  said. 

"Precisely,"  said  the  doctor,  "if  you  want  any- 
thing more,  let  me  know.  I  've  got  one  old  rooster 
and  a  gobbler,  that 's  tough  enough  to  be  Job's. 
G'long,  Henk!" 


XVI 

"  "T"  TELL  you,  David  Royall,  I  can't  understand 
how  you  ever  let  that  man  come  to  your  house/' 

-*-  Mrs.  Eaton  said;  "a  common  man  in  the  first 
place,  and  now  —  why,  there  can't  be  any  doubt  at 
all  about  Jean  Bartlett !  Has  n't  he  got  the  child?" 

Colonel  Royall  tilted  his  chair  against  the  pillar 
of  the  veranda  and  looked  at  her  mildly.  "That 's 
where  the  doubt  comes  in,  Jinny,"  he  remarked. 

"I  can't  understand  youl"  she  retorted  tartly, 
dropping  a  stitch  in  her  crocheting  and  struggling 
blindly  to  pick  it  up.  "I  can't  in  the  least  understand 
your  doubts  —  it 's  obvious." 

"Which?"  said  the  colonel,  "the  doubt  or 
Sammy?" 

"Both!"  said  she. 

"Well,  Dr.  Cheyney  told  me  about  it,"  said  the 
colonel,  "and  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  believe  all  the  other 
things  I  hear.  Give  him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt, 
Jinny." 

"There  isn't  any  doubt,"  declared  Mrs.  Eaton; 
"everybody  says  he  's  the  father  of  that  child." 

Colonel  Royall  shook  his  head  slowly.  "It  isn't 
like  the  male  critter,  Jinny,"  he  argued  mildly,  "to 
take  in  the  child ;  he  'd  most  likely  ship  it." 


CALEB  TRENCH  153 

"Some  women  do  that !"  said  Mrs.  Eaton  sharply, 
shutting  her  thin  lips. 

The  colonel  turned  a  terrible  face  upon  her. 
"Jinny!" 

Mrs.  Eaton  reddened  and  her  hands  shook,  but  she 
went  on  without  regarding  his  anger.  "At  least, 
he  'B  the  father  of  the  Cresset  speech,  you  '11  admit 
that,  and,  if  you  please,  here  is  this  duel  with  Jacob  — 
with  my  son!" 

"  I  believe  Jacob  was  the  challenger,"  said  Colonel 
Royall. 

"  He  could  n't  stand  being  insulted  by  such  trash ! " 
said  the  indignant  mother. 

The  colonel  smiled  broadly.  "Come,  Jinny,  why 
did  he  go  there?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  she  retorted  hotly;  "some 
political  reason,  of  course,  and  Trench  took  advan- 
tage of  it,  as  a  common  man  would." 

The  colonel  began  to  whittle  a  stick,  man's  re- 
source from  time  immemorial.  "Jinny,"  he  said, 
"  you  're  the  greatest  partisan  on  earth ;  if  you  could 
lead  a  political  party  you  'd  cover  your  antagonist 
with  confusion.  When  I  see  Jacob  beating  his  head 
against  a  wall  I  always  remember  he  's  your  son." 

Mrs.  Eaton's  face  relaxed  a  little.  "Jacob  takes 
after  my  family,"  she  admitted,  smiling ;  "  he  's  like 
them  hi  looks  and  he  has  all  their  charm." 

"Why  don't  you  say  yours,  Jinny?"  asked  the 
colonel,  twinkling. 

"I  don't  think  you  half  appreciate  that,"  she  re- 


154  CALEB  TRENCH 

plied,  with  a  touch  of  coquetry;  "if  you  did,  you 
would  n't  quarrel  with  me  about  Caleb  Trench." 

"Do  I?"  said  the  colonel. 

She  let  her  crochet  work  drop  in  her  lap  and  looked 
at  him  attentively.  "Do  you  mean  to  say  you  agree 
with  me?"  she  demanded. 

The  colonel  laughed.  "  I  'm  not  a  violent  man, 
Jinny ;  since  the  war  I  've  been  a  man  of  peace. 
I  'm  not  sure  that  I  've  got  all  the  faith  I  ought  to 
have  in  these  young  iconoclasts." 

"Faith  in  that  man!"  Mrs.  Eaton  threw  up  her 
hands.  "If  you  had,  David,  I  wouldn't  have  any 
in  you  I" 

"Your  conversation  has  rather  led  me  to  assume 
that  you  had  lost  faith  in  my  opinions,"  he  retorted, 
amused. 

"Well,  sometimes,  Cousin  David,  I  think  you're 
too  willing  to  have  the  wool  combed  over  your  eyes ! " 
she  said  severely ;  "  you  're  so  broad-minded,  I  sup- 
pose, that  you  don't  think  enough  of  the  natural 
prejudices  of  our  own  class." 

"  Well,  Jinny,"  said  the  colonel  dryly,  "  I  'm  a 
little  tired  of  our  class." 

Mrs.  Eaton  raised  her  head  to  reply  with  indigna- 
tion, but  utterance  was  suspended  by  Diana's  ap- 
proach. Her  appearance  always  had  the  effect  of 
breaking  off  a  conversation  hi  the  middle.  She  was 
still  a  vision  in  pink  muslin,  with  a  wide  straw  hat 
trimmed  with  roses.  She  swept  out,  fresh  and  sweet 
and  buoyant. 


CALEB  TRENCH  155 

"What  are  you  two  quarreling  about?"  she  asked. 
"  I  can't  leave  you  alone  together  any  more ;  you  fight 
like  game  cocks.  Of  course  it 's  politics  or  social  cus- 
toms ;  you  have  n't  got  to  religion  yet,  thank  heaven ! 
When  you  do  I  shall  have  to  send  for  the  bishop." 

"  It 's  about  that  wretched  man,"  said  Mrs.  Eaton 
fretfully.  "I  told  David  that  he  ought  not  to  be 
received  here!" 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel  thoughtfully,  "I'm  not 
sure  he  could  be  after  this  fight  with  Jacob ;  blood  's 
thicker  than  water.  But  do  you  know,  Jinny,  I 
don't  believe  he'll  come?" 

"Corne!"  cried  Mrs.  Eaton;  "dear  me,  do  you 
imagine  that  a  poor  creature  like  that  would  lose  the 
chance?" 

Colonel  Royall  smiled  whimsically.  "Jinny," 
said  he,  "your  grandfather  made  his  money  selling 
molasses  in  New  Orleans." 

She  gazed  at  him  coldly.  "It  was  wholesale,"  she 
said,  with  withering  contempt. 

The  colonel  shook  with  silent  laughter. 

All  this  time  Diana  had  not  opened  her  lips;  she 
stepped  down  from  the  piazza  into  the  grass  now  and 
unfurled  her  parasol. 

"  I  hope  you  're  not  going  to  make  my  unfortunate 
grandfather  a  reason  for  inviting  Caleb  Trench  here," 
said  Mrs.  Eaton  bitingly,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
colonel's  flushed  face. 

"Cousin  Jinny,  he  won't  come,"  said  Diana 
suddenly. 


156  CALEB  TRENCH 

Both  her  father  and  Mrs.  Eaton  looked  at  her 
astonished.  "How  do  you  know?"  the  latter  asked 
unconvinced. 

"I  asked  him,"  said  Diana,  and  blushed. 

Mrs.  Eaton  was  amazed.  "  You  asked  that  man  — 
that  person  —  and  he  refused  your  invitation?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Diana,  scarlet  now. 

Her  elderly  cousin  dropped  her  hands  helplessly  in 
her  lap.  "Diana  Royall,  I  'm  ashamed  of  you !" 

"  I  was  ashamed  of  myself,"  said  Diana. 

The  colonel  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head  thought- 
fully. "I  reckon  he  had  a  reason,  Di,"  he  said  at 
last. 

"  I  have  a  reason  for  not  asking  him  again,"  replied 
his  daughter. 

"Thank  heaven !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Eaton  devoutly. 

The  girl  turned  away  and  walked  slowly  across  the 
lawn.  Two  of  the  setters  followed  her  half-way,  but, 
unencouraged,  fell  back  lazily  to  lie  in  the  cool  grass. 
As  she  went  the  murmur  of  indignant  voices  died 
away,  and  she  passed  into  the  cool  shadow  of  the 
horse-chestnuts.  Her  face  still  burned  with  the  blush 
of  vexation  that  Mrs.  Eaton  had  summoned,  and  her 
heart  beat  a  little  faster  at  the  thought  that  she  had 
never  asked  any  man  to  accept  their  hospitality  be- 
fore in  vain.  It  was  preposterous  and  rude,  yet,  in 
her  heart,  she  respected  Caleb  Trench  for  refusing  it. 
Even  at  Kitty  Broughton's  ball  he  had  been  accepted 
only  on  tolerance  and  because  of  Judge  Hollis.  She 
had  seen  him  slighted,  and  then  the  prejudice  had 


CALEB  TRENCH  157 

been  against  his  poor  little  shop  at  the  village  Cross- 
Roads  and  his  black  Republicanism,  in  a  section  that 
was  rankly  Democratic.  Now  they  had  a  greater 
cause,  the  Cresset  speech,  the  attacks  upon  Eaton, 
the  duel  at  Little  Neck  Meadow  —  of  which  no  one 
could  get  the  truth,  for  no  one  knew  socially  Peter 
Mahan  or  Aaron  Todd  —  and  last  of  all  the  scandal 
of  the  child.  The  story  of  poor  Jean  Bartlett  had 
passed  from  lip  to  lip  now  that  Sammy  played  on  the 
door-step  of  the  most  unique  figure  in  local  politics. 

Gossips  had  promptly  decided  that  Sammy  was 
Caleb's  child,  and  Jean's  had  been  a  peculiarly  sad 
case.  The  story  lost  nothing  in  transmission,  and 
Diana  tried  not  to  recall  details  as  she  walked.  Why 
should  she?  The  man  was  nothing  to  her!  Her 
father  did  not  believe  all  he  heard,  and  neither  did 
she,  but  she  was  more  tormented  than  if  she  had  be- 
lieved the  worst.  Certainty  carries  healing  in  its 
wings ;  doubt  is  more  cruel  than  a  whip  of  scorpions. 
She  had  tried  to  understand  the  man  and  she  could 
not;  one  thing  contradicted  another,  but  he  was 
strong,  his  figure  loomed  above  the  others,  and  the 
storm  was  gathering  about  it,  as  the  clouds  sweep 
around  the  loftiest  peak. 

The  hottest  contest  for  years  was  brewing  in  the 
conventions,  and  it  was  known  —  and  well-known  — 
that  Caleb  Trench  had  an  immense  influence  with  the 
largest  element  of  the  party.  He  was  convinced  that. 
Aylett's  government  was  weak  and  permeated  with 
corruption,  and  he  was  making  his  conviction  public, 


158  CALEB  TRENCH 

with  a  force  and  certainty  that  were  bewildering  far 
older  politicians.  In  fact,  the  man  was  no  politician 
at  all;  he  was  a  born  reformer,  and  he  was  making 
himself  felt. 

Diana,  too,  had  felt  his  force  and  resented  it.  She 
resented  also  his  duel  with  her  cousin.  The  cheap 
sensationalism  of  a  duel  irritated  her,  and  she  did  not 
place  the  whole  blame  upon  Jacob,  for  she  knew  — 
Aunt  Charity  had  spread  it  —  that  Caleb  had  knocked 
Jacob  down.  She  was  ashamed  that  she  almost 
tingled  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  him  towering  in 
wrath  over  Jacob,  for  she  could  divine  the  insulting 
tone  that  must  have  provoked  him  beyond  endurance. 
She  could  divine  it,  but  she  would  not  accept  it. 
Jacob  was  her  own  relation,  and  Jacob  had  been 
knocked  down.  It  was  maddening  from  that  point 
of  view,  and  Diana  felt  that  nothing  but  blood  could 
have  atoned  to  her  for  being  laid  in  the  dust.  Yet 
she  thrilled  at  the  thought  that  Caleb  Trench  had 
dealt  the  blow,  that  the  son  of  the  Philadelphia 
Quaker  was  a  man.  Thus  contradictory  is  the  heart 
of  woman! 

Meanwhile,  she  had  left  the  confines  of  Broad 
Acres  and  was  walking  slowly  up  the  trail  to  Angel 
Pass.  Not  far  away  was  the  spot  where  she  had 
stood  and  talked  with  Caleb  in  the  sweet  twilight. 
Below  her,  as  the  path  climbed,  was  the  long  slope 
of  rolling  meadows  which  lay  between  this  spot  and 
Paradise  Ridge.  Around  her  the  tree  trunks  stood  in 
serried  ranks,  and  here  and  there,  where  the  wild 


CALEB  TRENCH  159 

grapevines  hung  in  long  festoons,  she  noticed  the 
tight  clusters  of  green  grapes.  She  wished  devoutly 
that  she  could  think  of  something  beside  the  slightly 
awkward  figure,  the  sharp  lines  of  the  clean-cut  face, 
as  it  had  looked  in  the  twilight.  Since  then  they  had 
met  more  than  once,  but  it  was  that  picture  of  him 
which  haunted  her,  and  she  was  scarcely  startled 
when  she  turned  the  corner  by  the  pines  and  saw 
him  ahead  of  her  with  Shot. 

He  heard  her  footstep,  and  when  she  would  have 
turned  to  avoid  him,  he  prevented  it  by  facing  about 
and  greeting  her.  Both  were  conscious  of  constraint. 
Jacob  Eaton's  bullet  had  not  broken  the  bone  of  his 
arm,  but  the  arm  was  still  bandaged  under  the  sleeve 
and  stiff,  and  the  fact  of  the  duel  seemed  to  material- 
ize between  them.  The  other  thought,  the  thought 
of  Jean  Bartlett  and  her  child,  sprang  up  unbidden  in 
her  heart,  and  she  was  woman  enough  to  wince.  A 
torrent  of  feeling  swept  through  her  like  a  whirlpool, 
and  she  would  not  have  told  what  it  was,  or  whence 
it  came.  Her  face  crimsoned,  and  unconsciously  she 
drew  back.  Something  in  his  face,  in  the  compelling 
light  in  his  eyes,  made  her  catch  her  breath.  On  his 
side,  he  saw  only  reluctance  and  repulsion,  and  mis- 
took it  for  rebuke.  He  remembered  that  report  said 
she  was  to  marry  Jacob  Eaton,  and  he  had  knocked 
Jacob  Eaton  down.  He  would  have  been  less  than 
human  had  he  not  experienced  then  one  instant  of 
unholy  joy  to  think  that  he  had  done  it.  Neither 
spoke  for  a  full  moment,  then  he  did  ceremoniously. 


160  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  "I  ought  not  to  intrude  upon 
you,  Miss  Royall.  I  see  that  I  am  doubly  unfortunate, 
both  unexpected  and  unwelcome." 

Diana  struggled  with  herself.  "Unexpected,  cer- 
tainly/' she  said,  conscious  that  it  was  a  falsehood, 
for  had  he  not  haunted  her?  "but  unwelcome  — 
why?  This  is  a  public  place,  Mr.  Trench." 

He  smiled  bitterly.  "Fairly  answered,"  he  said; 
"you  can  be  cruel,  Miss  Royall.  I  am  aware  that  to 
you  —  I  merely  cumber  the  earth." 

"I  believe  you  refused  an  invitation  to  come  to 
our  house,"  she  retorted. 

He  swung  around  in  the  path,  facing  her  fully,  and 
she  felt  his  determination,  with  almost  a  thrill  of  pride 
in  him. 

"Miss  Royall  —  I  have  no  right  to  say  a  word,"  he 
said,  "  but  do  you  think  —  for  one  instant  —  that  if 
you  gave  that  invitation  sincerely  I  would  refuse  it? 
You  know  I  would  not.  I  would  come  with  all 
my  heart.  But  —  because  I  know  how  absurd  it  is, 
because  I  know  how  you  feel,  I  will  not.  I  am  too 
proud  to  be  your  unwelcome  guest.  Yet  I  am  not 
too  proud  to  speak  to-night.  God  knows  I  wish  I 
could  kill  it  in  my  heart,  but  I  will  say  it.  I  love 
you." 

Diana  stretched  her  hand  out  involuntarily  and 
rested  it  against  the  slender  stem  of  a  young  pine; 
she  clung  to  it  to  feel  reality,  for  the  world  seemed  to 
be  turning  around.  She  never  opened  her  lips  and 
she  dared  not  look  at  him ;  she  had  met  that  light  in 


CALEB  TRENCH  161 

his  eyes  once  and  dared  not  raise  hers.    If  she  had ! 
But  she  did  not  —  and  he  went  on. 

"It  is  madness,  I  know  it,"  he  said  bitterly,  "and 
if  I  could  strangle  it  —  as  a  living  thing  —  I  would, 
but  I  cannot.  I  love  you  and  have  loved  you  from 
the  first.  It  would  be  mockery  indeed  to  accept  your 
chary  invitations.  I  suppose  you  think  that  it  is  an 
insult  for  me  to  speak  to  you,  but "  —  he  smiled  bit- 
terly —  "to  myself  I  should  seem  a  little  less  than  a 
man  it  I  did  not.  However,  I  beg  your  pardon,  if  it 
seems  an  affront." 

Diana  tried  twice  to  speak  before  she  could  utter  a 
word.  Then  she  seemed  to  hear  her  own  voice  quite 
calm.  "I  do  not  consider  it  so.  I  —  I  am  sorry." 

He  turned  away.  "Thank  you,"  he  said  abruptly, 
"I  would  like  to  be,  at  least,  your  friend."  He  added 
this  with  a  reluctance  that  told  of  a  bitter  struggle 
with  his  own  pride. 

Diana  held  out  her  hand  with  a  gesture  as  sweet  as 
it  was  involuntary.  "  You  are,"  she  said,  quite  simply. 
"Mr.  Trench,  I  —  I  take  it  as  an  honor." 

He  held  her  hand,  looking  at  her  with  an  amaze- 
ment that  made  her  blush  deeply.  She  felt  her  emo- 
tion stifling  her,  tears  were  rushing  to  her  eyes.  How 
dreadful  it  was  for  him  to  force  her  into  this  position. 
They  were  as  widely  sundered  as  the  poles,  and  yet 
she  no  sooner  met  his  eyes  than  she  wavered  and 
began  to  yield;  she  snatched  her  hand  away. 

"Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  saying  that !"  he 
murmured. 

ll 


102  CALEB  TRENCH 

She  fled ;  she  was  half-way  up  the  path ;  the  sun- 
shine and  the  breeze  swept  down  from  Angel  Pass. 
She  was  conscious  of  him  still  standing  there  and 
turned  and  looked  back.  "Good-bye!"  she  called 
softly  over  her  shoulder,  and  was  gone. 


xvn 

rwas  in  the  heat  of  midsummer  that  Judge  Hollis 
talked  into  Caleb's  inner  office. 
"Caleb,"  he  said,  "I  'm  hanged  if  I  haven't 
changed  the  color  of  my  coat  and  come  to  your  opin- 
ion.   After  this  I  'm  for  Yarnall." 

Caleb  smiled,  leaning  back  wearily  hi  his  chair  and 
glancing  unconsciously  at  Sammy,  the  innocent  cause 
of  much  scandal  in  Eshcol,  who  lay  asleep  beside 
Shot  on  the  floor,  his  chubby  arms  around  the  dog's 
neck. 

The  smoke  of  the  two  great  conventions  was  still  in 
the  air.  Two  weeks  before  the  Republicans  had 
peacefully  and  hopelessly  nominated  Peter  Mahan 
for  Governor,  and  the  Democrats,  after  a  deadlock 
and  a  disgraceful  collapse  of  the  opposition,  had  nom- 
inated Aylett.  Every  politician  in  the  State  knew 
that  it  had  cost  the  Eaton  faction  nearly  two  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars.  There  had  been  a  storm  of 
indignation,  and  Yarnall  had  come  back  and  put  his 
case  hi  the  hands  of  the  Republican  lawyer,  Caleb 
Trench!  The  indignation  and  chagrin  of  the  older 
Democratic  lawyers  added  nothing  to  the  beauty  of 
the  situation,  but  Caleb  had  grasped  it  silently  and 
was  dealing  with  it.  In  ten  days  he  had  forced  the 


164  CALEB  TRENCH 

Grand  Jury  to  indict  both  Aylett  and  Eaton,  along 
with  half  a  dozen  of  their  lieutenants,  and  the  hour 
of  the  great  trial  was  approaching.  Feeling  ran  so 
high  that  there  were  threats  on  both  sides,  and  it  was 
a  common  saying  that  men  went  armed. 

The  judge  banged  his  broad-brimmed  Panama 
down  on  the  table.  "Caleb,"  he  said  grimly,  "how 
much  more  packing  is  there  to  come  out  of  this?" 

This  time  Trench  laughed.  "Not  a  great  deal, 
Judge,"  he  replied  easily,  "I've  got  most  of  it  out. 
We  're  going  to  prove  both  our  cases  against  Aylett 
and  Eaton.  Aylett 's  used  more  money,  but  Eaton 
has  intimidated.  The  convention  was  packed.  They 
threw  in  Eaton  as  a  third  candidate  to  split  Yarnall's 
strength ;  they  knew  all  the  investors  in  his  get-rich- 
quick  schemes  would  follow  him,  and  they  'd  been 
warned  to  do  it.  I  've  got  the  evidence.  Of  course, 
when  Yarnall  got  them  deadlocked,  e^en  with  that 
break  in  his  strength,  Eaton  withdrew  and,  throwing 
all  his  votes  suddenly  to  Aylett,  nominated  him  on 
the  fifth  ballot." 

The  judge  scowled  at  him  from  under  his  heavy 
brows.  "What's  this  about  the  Todd  test  case?" 
he  growled. 

"Aaron  Todd  got  hold  of  one  of  the  delegates  and 
found  out  that  he  'd  been  offered  a  bribe  by  Eaton. 
Todd  suggested  to  him  to  take  it  and  get  the  matter 
witnessed;  it  was  done  and  will  be  used  in  court." 

"Damned  shabby !"  said  the  judge. 

Caleb  smiled.     "I  call  it  a  harder  name,  Judge," 


CALEB  TRENCH  165 

he  said  simply.  "  I  shan't  use  it,  but,  after  all,  I  'm 
only  the  junior  counsel." 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  over  his  spectacles.  "  I 
understand  that  Yarnall  has  picked  you  out  as  a  kind 
of  red  flag  to  the  bull,  and  means  to  wave  you  in 
Eaton's  face." 

"So  he  does,  I  fancy,"  said  Trench,  "but  we're 
going  to  call  Judge  Hollis." 

The  judge  stared;  a  dull  red  crept  up  to  his  hair. 
He  had  felt  the  slight  when  Caleb  was  chosen,  and  he 
suspected  that  the  younger  man  knew  it.  Yet  the 
temptation  to  be  in  the  thick  of  the  fray  was  like  the 
taste  of  fine  wine  in  the  mouth  of  the  thirsty.  "By 
gum,  sir,"  he  said,  "I  don't  believe  I  '11  do  it." 

"Yes,  you  will,"  said  Trench  decisively,  "we  need 
you.  Besides,  Mr.  Yarnall  has  written  a  formal  re- 
quest to  you:  we  want  influential  men  on  our  side. 
We  've  got  a  clear  case,  but  we  want  the  people  to 
understand  that  we  're  not  demagogues.  And  "  — 
Trench  suddenly  used  all  his  persuasive  powers, 
which  were  great  —  "Judge,  I  lack  your  experience." 

It  was  a  touch  of  modesty  that  went  to  the  judge's 
heart.  He  took  Diana's  chair  —  Caleb  always  called 
it  that  in  his  heart  —  and  they  fell  to  discussing  the 
situation  and  the  most  salient  points  in  the  case,  for 
it  had  divided  the  State  and  it  would  affect  the  elec- 
tion of  the  United  States  Senator  later. 

Meanwhile,  Sammy  slept,  with  his  yellow  curls 
mingling  with  Shot's  yellow  hair;  they  were  boon 
companions  and  no  one  troubled  the  child.  Once  or 


166  CALEB  TRENCH 

twice  Zeb  Bartlett  had  come,  bent  on  making  trouble, 
but  he  had  been  sent  away.  Sammy  found  his  new 
home  wholly  desirable ;  Aunt  Charity  was  even  grow- 
ing fond  of  him,  and  Dr.  Cheyney  brought  him  toys. 
But  between  Caleb  and  himself  there  was  a  complete 
understanding;  the  child  followed  him  about  as  pa- 
tiently as  did  Shot,  and  as  unquestioningly.  In  some 
mysterious  way  he  had  grasped  the  meaning  of  his 
adoption,  and  he  understood  the  silent,  preoccupied 
man  as  well  as  the  dog  did.  With  both  it  was  an  in- 
stinct that  recognized  kindness  and  protection.  Left 
to  amuse  himself  from  babyhood,  Sammy  made  little 
trouble.  He  would  lie  on  his  stomach  by  the  hour 
working  a  toy  train  of  cars  to  and  fro  in  one  spot,  and 
he  had  destroyed  only  one  brief  which  had  been  left 
within  his  reach. 

Judge  Hollis  talked  for  over  an  hour,  going  over  the 
case  which  was  to  come  up  before  Judge  Ladd  in  ten 
days.  He  saw  that  Trench  had  prepared  every  inch 
of  it,  and  that  he  was  chiefly  wanted  as  a  notable 
figurehead,  yet  he  was  nothing  loath  to  be  the  figure- 
head. When  he  had  fully  grasped  the  evidence,  and 
saw  before  him  one  of  the  biggest  cases  on  record  in 
the  State  courts,  he  threw  back  his  head  like  an  old 
war-horse  snuffing  the  battle  afar. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry ! "  he  said,  slapping  his  knee, 
"we  '11  whip  them  to  kingdom  come,  Caleb,  and  shear 
the  sheep  at  that!"  Then  his  eye  suddenly  lighted 
on  the  sleeping  child,  and  his  shaggy  brows  dropped ; 
he  stooped  over  and  looked  at  him,  thrusting  out  his 


CALEB  TRENCH  167 

underlip.  "Caleb,"  he  said,  "send  that  brat  to  St. 
Vincent's." 

Caleb,  who  was  making  notes,  looked  up.  "Why?" 
he  asked  dryly. 

The  judge  growled.  "You're  a  tarnation  fool!" 
he  replied.  "  I  'm  not  asking  whose  child  he  is !  What 
I  say  is  —  send  him  packing." 

Caleb  turned  and  glanced  at  the  child,  and  the 
judge,  watching  him,  was  astonished  at  the  soften- 
ing of  his  face.  "Poor  little  devil,"  he  said  quietly, 
"  I  fancy  he  '11  stay  as  long  as  I  do,  Judge  Hollis. 
I  've  had  no  home,  I  've  been  in  desperate  straits, 
now  I  've  got  this  roof.  That  dog  was  a  stray,  so  is 
the  child  —  they  're  welcome." 

The  judge  was  silent  for  a  long  while.  Then  he 
drew  a  pattern  on  the  floor  with  his  cane.  "Caleb," 
he  said,  more  kindly,  "that  kid  has  raised  Cain  for 
you.  Jinny  Eaton  is  blowing  the  news  to  the  four 
winds  of  heaven,  and  everybody  believes  it.  You 
might  as  well  hang  an  albatross  around  your  neck. 
If  you  're  not  the  child's  father  —  by  gum,  sir,  you 
might  as  well  be!" 

Caleb  set  his  teeth  hard,  and  the  light  came  into 
his  eyes,  —  the  light  that  some  people  dreaded. 
"Judge,"  he  said  sternly,  "I'm  accountable  to  no 
man,  neither  am  I  a  coward.  Mrs.  Eaton  may  say 
what  she  pleases ;  being  a  woman,  she  is  beyond  my 
reach." 

The  judge  got  up  and  drove  his  hat  down  hard  on 
his  head  with  his  favorite  gesture,  as  though  he  put 


168  CALEB  TRENCH 

the  lid  on  to  suppress  the  impending  explosion.  "  By 
gum ! "  he  said,  and  walked  out. 

That  evening  Caleb  found  Sammy  asleep  in  the  old 
leather  armchair  with  his  yellow  head  on  the  arm, 
and  he  snatched  him  out  of  it,  in  spite  of  Sammy's 
vigorous  protests,  and  put  him  to  bed.  He  never 
thought  that  Diana's  arms  might  have  held  the  child 
as  pitifully,  for  Diana  had  a  noble  heart. 

Then  followed  the  greatest  case  of  disputed  nomi- 
nation ever  contested  west  of  the  Mississippi.  The 
old  court-house  was  packed  to  its  limit,  and  there  were 
one  or  two  hardy  spirits  who  climbed  the  tree  outside 
and  listened  through  the  open  windows.  Feeling  ran 
so  high  when  Aaron  Todd  testified  that  there  was  a 
column  of  militia  in  Townhouse  Square.  It  was  hot ; 
they  were  cutting  oats  in  the  fields  and  the  rye  was 
nearly  ripe,  while  all  the  grapes  were  coloring  like 
new  wine. 

Aylett  and  Eaton  fought  step  by  step,  inch  by 
inch,  and  the  court  sat  from  early  morning  until 
candle-light,  yet  it  was  three  weeks  before  it  went  to 
the  jury,  and  they  had  been  twenty-nine  days  getting 
that  jury ! 

Two  brilliant  lawyers  from  the  East  spoke  for 
the  defense,  and  Judge  Hollis  opened  for  the  plain- 
tiff. It  was  afternoon;  the  judge  had  made  an  able 
if  somewhat  grandiloquent  plea,  and  the  court- 
house was  so  thronged  that  men  stood  on  the  window- 
sills,  shutting  out  the  view  from  the  trees.  Caleb 
Trench  closed  the  case  for  Yarnall,  and  men,  remem- 


CALEB  TRENCH  169 

bering  his  Cresset  speech,  had  refused  to  leave  the 
court-room  for  dinner,  fearful  of  losing  their  seats  — 
or  their  standing  room.  Eaton  alone  left  abruptly 
when  he  began  to  speak. 

Trench  had  a  peculiarly  rich  voice,  low-toned  but 
singularly  clear;  he  used  no  gestures,  and  his  atti- 
tudes were  always  easy  and  unembarrassed  when  he 
forgot  himself  in  his  work.  His  personality  counted, 
but  it  was  neither  that  nor  his  eloquence  which  held 
the  court-room  spellbound;  it  was  the  force  of  his 
logic,  the  power  to  get  down  to  the  root  of  things,  to 
tear  away  all  illusions  and  show  them  the  machine 
as  it  had  existed  for  nearly  twenty  years.  Incident- 
ally, as  it  seemed  to  some,  he  showed  them,  beyond 
all  doubt,  the  fraud  and  intimidation  that  had  re- 
nominated  Governor  Aylett. 

The  lights  were  burning  in  the  court-room  and 
outside  in  the  square  when  Judge  Ladd  charged  the 
jury.  Not  a  man  left  his  place  as  the  jurors  filed  out, 
except  Trench.  He  went  to  send  a  message  to  Aunt 
Charity  about  his  two  waifs  at  home,  who  must  not 
go  supperless.  He  was  still  out,  and  Judge  Hollis 
sent  for  him  hastily  when  the  jury  came  back  in 
twenty  minutes.  They  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty 
as  indicted;  the  illegal  use  of  money,  corruption  in 
office,  and  intimidation  were  the  charges  against 
Aylett  and  Eaton  and  ten  others. 

At  half-past  nine  that  night  the  militia  had  to 
charge  in  the  court-house  square  to  disperse  the 
crowd. 


XVIII 

COLONEL  ROYALL  and  Diana  drove  into 
town  in  the  morning;  it  was  a  long  drive 
from  Eshcol,  and  the  road  led  past  Paradise 
Ridge.  Diana,  from  her  side  of  the  carriage,  noticed 
the  little  cabin  where  Jean  Bartlett  had  died,  and 
saw  the  shambling  figure  of  Zeb  leaning  against  the 
door-post.  Zeb  was  talking  to  a  well-dressed  man 
whose  back  was  toward  her.  A  low-growing  horse- 
chestnut  partly  hid  his  figure,  but  afterwards  she 
remembered  a  curious  familiarity  about  it.  At  the 
time  her  heart  was  bitter.  She  had  heard  nothing 
but  Mrs.  Eaton's  version  of  the  scandal  of  Paradise 
Ridge  for  a  month,  and  once,  when  she  drove  past 
the  Cross-Roads,  she  had  seen  Sammy's  chubby 
figure  sprawling  under  the  trees  beside  Caleb  Trench's 
office. 

If  he  were  the  child's  father,  he  had  certainly  taken 
up  the  burden  squarely.  Diana  pushed  all  thought 
of  it  out  of  her  mind  by  main  force,  yet  two  hours 
later  it  would  come  back.  She  remembered,  too, 
that  meeting  on  the  trail,  and  her  heart  quaked.  In 
some  mysterious,  unfathomable  way  the  man  loomed 
up  before  her  and  mastered  her  will;  she  could  not 
cast  him  out,  and  she  stormed  against  him  and  against 


CALEB  TEENCH  171 

herself.  Outwardly  she  was  listening  to  Colonel 
Roy  all.  At  heart,  too,  she  was  deeply  concerned 
about  her  father ;  the  colonel  was  failing,  he  had  been 
failing  ever  since  spring  set  in.  All  her  life  Diana 
had  felt  that,  hi  spite  of  their  devotion  to  each  other, 
there  was  a  door  shut  between  them,  she  had  never 
had  his  full  confidence.  Yet,  she  could  not  tell 
how  she  knew  this,  what  delicate  intuition  re- 
vealed the  fact  of  his  reticence.  She  had  twice 
asked  Dr.  Cheyney  what  secret  trouble  her  father 
had,  and  the  old  man  had  looked  guilty,  even  when 
he  denied  all  knowledge.  Diana  felt  the  presence  of 
grief,  and  she  had  assumed  that  it  was  especially 
poignant  at  the  season  when  he  kept  the  anniversary 
of  his  wife's  death.  Yet,  lately,  she  wondered  that 
he  had  never  taken  her  to  her  mother's  grave.  Mrs. 
Royall  had  died  when  Diana  was  three  years  old, 
and  was  buried  in  Virginia.  More  than  this  Diana 
had  never  known,  but  she  did  know  that  her  room 
at  Broad  Acres  had  been  locked  the  day  of  her  death 
and  that  no  one  ever  went  there  except  her  father 
and  the  old  negro  woman  who  kept  it  spotless  and 
"just  as  Miss  Letty  left  it." 

Neither  Colonel  Royall  nor  old  Judy  ever  vouch- 
safed any  explanation  of  this  room,  its  quaintly 
beautiful  furniture  and  the  apparently  unchanging 
spotlessness  of  the  muslin  curtains  and  the  white 
valance  of  the  mahogany  four-poster.  Once,  when 
she  was  a  child,  Diana  had  crept  in  there  and  hidden 
under  the  bed,  but  hearing  the  key  turn  in  the  lock 


172  CALEB  TRENCH 

when  old  Judy  left  the  room,  her  small  heart  had 
quaked  with  fear  and  she  had  remained  crouching 
in  a  corner,  still  under  the  bed,  not  daring  to  look 
out  lest  she  should  indeed  see  a  beautiful  and  ghostly 
lady  seated  at  the  polished  toilet-table,  or  hear  her 
step  upon  the  floor.  She  stayed  there  three  hours, 
then  terror  and  loneliness  prevailed  and  she  fancied 
she  did  hear  something;  it  was,  perhaps,  the  rustle 
of  wings,  for  she  had  been  told  that  angels  had  wings, 
and  if  her  mamma  were  dead  she  was,  of  course,  an 
angel.  The  rustle,  therefore,  of  imaginary  wings  was 
more  than  Diana  could  bear,  and  she  lifted  up  her 
voice  and  wept.  They  had  been  searching  the  house 
for  her,  and  it  was  her  father  who  drew  her  out  from 
under  the  bed  and  carried  her,  weeping,  to  the  nursery. 
Then  he  spoke  briefly  but  terribly  to  the  mammy  in 
charge,  and  Diana  never  crept  under  the  white  valance 
again. 

She  remembered  that  scene  to-day  as  the  car- 
riage drove  on  under  the  tall  shade  trees,  and  she 
remembered  that  Colonel  Royall  had  never  looked 
so  ill  at  this  time  of  the  year  since  the  time  when  he 
was  stricken  with  fever  in  midsummer,  when  she  was 
barely  fifteen.  Then  he  had  been  out  of  his  head  for 
three  days  and  she  had  heard  him  call  some  one 
"Letty!"  and  then  cry  out:  "God  forgive  me  — 
there  is  the  child!"  He  had  been  eighteen  months 
recovering,  and  she  saw  presages  of  illness  in  his 
face;  his  eyes  were  resting  sadly  and  absently,  too, 
on  the  familiar  landscape.  Diana  winced,  again 


CALEB  TRENCH  173 

conscious  of  the  shut  door.    It  is  hard  to  wait  on  at 
the  threshold  of  the  heart  we  love. 

They  were  crossing  the  bridge  when  a  long  silence 
was  broken.  Below  them  some  negroes  were  chanting 
in  a  flat  boat,  and  their  voices  were  beautiful. 

f'Away  down  South  in  de  fields  of  cotton, 
Cinnamon  seed  and  sandy  bottom, 
Look  away,  look  away, 
Look  away,  look  away ! " 

"Pa,"  said  Diana  suddenly,  "do  you  believe  in 
the  verdict?" 

The  colonel  took  off  his  hat  and  pushed  back  his 
thick  white  hair.  "I  reckon  I've  got  to,  Di,"  he 
replied  reluctantly. 

"Then  you  think  Jacob  is  a  bully  and  a  fraud," 
said  Diana,  with  the  unsparing  frankness  of  youth. 

"Heaven  forbid !"  said  the  colonel  gently. 

"I  thought  you  wanted  me  to  marry  him,"  she 
pursued,  victory  in  her  eye. 

The  colonel  reddened.  "  Diana,"  he  said,  "  I  don't 
want  you  to  marry  anybody." 

She  smiled.  "Thank  you,"  she  said;  "after  all, 
the  verdict  has  done  some  good  in  this  State,  Colonel 
Royall." 

They  were  at  the  court-house  door  now,  and  there 
was  a  crowd  in  the  square.  The  colonel  got  down 
and  helped  out  Diana,  and  they  walked  into  the 
arched  entrance  of  the  basement  together.  "  I  did  n't 
want  to  leave  you  out  there  to  be  stared  at  by  that 
mob,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  people  seem  to  know  us  at 
a  glance." 


174  CALEB  TRENCH 

Diana  laughed  softly.  "Of  course  no  one  would 
remember  you,"  she  said  maliciously ;  "they 're  look- 
ing at  my  new  hat." 

"I  reckon  they  are,"  said  her  father  dryly;  "we'll 
have  to  find  a  place  to  hide  it  in." 

As  he  spoke  they  passed  the  last  doorkeeper,  and 
walked  down  the  stone-paved  corridor  toward  the 
elevator.  It  was  absolutely  still.  On  the  left  hand 
was  a  small  room  with  one  large  window  looking  out 
into  the  court  where  a  tree  of  heaven  was  growing. 
It  had  sprung  from  a  seed  and  no  one  had  cut  it  down. 
The  window  was  barred,  but  the  cool  air  of  the  court 
came  in,  for  the  sash  was  open.  It  was  a  room  that 
they  called  "the  cage,"  because  prisoners  waited 
there  to  be  summoned  to  the  court-room  to  hear  the 
verdict,  but  Colonel  Royall  did  not  know  this.  There 
were  a  narrow  lounge  in  it,  two  chairs  and  a  table. 

"Wait  here,"  he  said  to  Diana,  "I  shan't  be  ten 
minutes.  I  want  to  see  Judge  Ladd,  and  I  know 
where  he  is  up-stairs.  Court  has  adjourned  for 
luncheon,  and  you  won't  be  disturbed." 

Diana  went  in  obediently  and  sat  down  in  the  chair 
by  the  window.  She  could  see  nothing  but  the  court 
enclosed  on  four  sides  by  the  old  brick  building,  and 
shaded  in  the  centre  by  the  slender  tree  of  heaven. 
There  was  no  possible  view  of  the  street  from  this 
room.  Opposite  the  door  was  the  blank  wall  of  the 
hall;  on  the  other  side  of  that  wall  were  the  rooms 
of  the  Registrar  of  Wills  and  the  Probate  Court. 
Outside  the  door  a  spiral  iron  staircase  ascended  to 


CALEB  TRENCH  175 

the  offices  of  the  State's  attorney ;  around  the  corner 
was  the  elevator  and  to  this  Colonel  Royall  went. 

Diana  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  surveyed  the 
chill  little  room;  on  the  walls  were  written  various 
reflections  of  waiting  prisoners.  None  were  as  elo- 
quent as  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  message  to  the  world, 
but  several  meant  the  same  thing  in  less  heroic  Eng- 
lish. The  colonel  had  been  gone  ten  minutes,  and  his 
daughter  was  watching  the  branches  of  the  tree  as 
they  stirred  slightly,  as  if  touched  by  some  tremulous 
breath,  for  no  wind  could  reach  them  here. 

It  was  then  that  she  heard  a  quick  step  in  the  cor- 
ridor and  knew  it  intuitively.  She  was  not  surprised 
when  Caleb  Trench  stopped  involuntarily  at  the  door. 
They  had  scarcely  met  hi  two  months,  but  the  color 
rushed  into  her  face;  she  seemed  to  see  him  again 
in  the  spring  woods,  though  now  the  hedgerows  were 
showing  goldenrod.  Involuntarily,  too,  she  rose 
and  they  stood  facing  each  other.  She  tried  to  speak 
naturally,  but  nothing  but  a  platitude  came  to  her  lips. 

"I  congratulate  you,"  she  said  foolishly,  "on  your 
victory." 

"Miss  Royall,  I  am  sorry  that  everything  I  do 
seems  like  a  personal  attack  upon  your  people,"  he 
replied  at  once,  and  he  had  never  appeared  to  better 
advantage;  "like  the  spiteful  revenge  of  a  foolish 
duellist,  a  sensational  politician.  Will  you  do  me 
the  justice  to  believe  that  my  position  is  painful?  " 

Diana  looked  at  him  and  hated  herself  because  her 
breath  came  so  short ;  was  she  afraid  of  him?  Perish 


176  CALEB  TRENCH 

the  thought!  "I  always  try  to  be  just,"  she  began 
with  dignity,  and  then  finished  lamely,  "of  course 
we  are  a  prejudiced  people  at  Eshcol." 

"You  are  like  people  everywhere,"  he  replied; 
"we  all  have  our  prejudices.  I  wish  mine  were  less. 
There  is  one  thing  I  would  like  to  say  to  you,  Miss 
Royall  — "  He  stopped  abruptly,  and  raised  his 
head.  Their  eyes  met,  and  Diana  knew  that  he  was 
thinking  of  Jean  Bartlett ;  she  turned  crimson. 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"I  shall  not  say  it,"  he  said,  and  his  strong  face 
saddened.  What  right  had  he  to  thrust  his  confi- 
dence upon  her?  "You  are  waiting  for  your  father?" 
he  added;  "may  I  not  escort  you  to  another  room? 
This  —  is  not  suitable."  He  wanted  to  add  that  he 
was  amazed  at  the  colonel  for  leaving  her  there;  he 
did  not  yet  fully  understand  the  old  man's  simplicity. 

"I  prefer  to  stay  here,"  Diana  replied,  a  little 
coldly ;  "  my  father  knows  I  am  here." 

It  was  Caleb's  turn  to  color.  "  I  beg  your  pardon." 
He  stopped  again,  and  then  turned  and  looked  out 
of  the  window.  "  I  fear  I  have  lost  even  your  friend- 
ship now,"  he  said  bitterly. 

She  did  not  reply  at  once;  she  was  trying  to  dis- 
cipline herself,  and  in  the  pause  both  heard  the  great 
clock  in  the  tower  strike  one. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  thank  you  for  offering  to  find 
me  a  pleasanter  place  to  wait  in,"  Diana  said,  with 
an  effort  at  lightness.  "  It  is  a  little  dreary,  but  I  'm 
sure  my  father  must  be  coming  and  — " 


CALEB  TRENCH  177 

She  stopped  with  a  little  cry  of  surprise,  for  there 
was  suddenly  the  sharp  sound  of  a  pistol  shot,  fol- 
lowed instantly  by  a  second.  The  reports  came  from 
the  other  side  of  the  hall,  and  were  followed  by  a 
tumult  in  the  street. 

"What  can  it  be?"  she  cried,  in  sudden  terror  for 
her  father. 

Caleb  Trench  swung  around  from  the  window  with 
an  awakening  of  every  sense  that  made  him  seem 
a  tremendous  vital  force.  He  divined  a  tragedy. 
Afterwards  the  girl  remembered  his  face  and  was 
amazed  at  the  fact  that  she  had  obeyed  him  like  a 
child. 

"Wait  here!"  he  exclaimed,  "your  father  is  safe. 
I  will  see  what  it  is.  On  no  account  leave  this  room 
now  —  promise  me ! " 

She  faltered.  "I  promise,"  she  said,  and  he  was 
gone. 

It  seemed  five  minutes;  it  was  in  reality  only  ten 
seconds  since  the  shots  were  fired.  Meanwhile,  there 
was  a  tumult  without,  the  shouting  of  men  and  the 
rush  of  many  feet.  Diana  stood  still,  trembling, 
her  hands  clasped  tightly  together.  Even  afar  off 
the  voice  of  the  mob  is  a  fearsome  thing. 


12 


XIX 

MEANWHILE  Colonel  Royall  and  Judge  Ladd 
had  been  in  consultation  in  the  judge's  pri- 
vate office,  behind  the  court-room. 

Governor  Aylett  and  Jacob  Eaton  had  definitely 
decided  to  appeal  the  case,  and  a  slight  discrepancy 
in  the  stenographer's  notes  had  made  it  necessary 
for  Colonel  Royall  to  review  a  part  of  his  testimony. 
Having  disposed  of  these  technicalities,  the  colonel 
found  it  difficult  to  depart.  He  and  Judge  Ladd  had 
been  boys  together;  they  met  infrequently,  and  the 
present  situation  was  interesting. 

The  colonel  stood  with  his  thumbs  inserted  in 
the  armholes  of  his  marseilles  waistcoat,  his  hat 
on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  a  placid  smile  on  his 
lips.  The  judge  sat  at  his  table,  smoking  a  huge 
cigar  and  meditating.  In  his  heart  he  rather  re- 
sented the  rapid  rise  of  the  unknown  young  lawyer; 
he  had  worked  his  own  way  up  inch  by  inch,  and 
he  had  no  confidence  in  meteoric  performances,  and 
said  so. 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel  slowly,  "I  reckon  I'd 
better  not  say  anything,  Tommy,  I'm  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  fence;  I'm  Jacob's  cousin,  though  I  feel 
like  his  grandfather." 


CALEB  TRENCH  179 

The  judge  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  and 
said  nothing.  It  was  not  in  his  province  to  discuss 
the  defendant  just  then. 

"I'd  give  something  handsome,"  the  colonel  con- 
tinued, "to  know  how  in  mischief  Trench  got  such 
a  hold  on  the  backwoodsmen.  Todd  follows  him  about 
like  a  lapdog,  too,  yet  he  does  n't  hesitate  to  condemn 
Todd's  methods  of  getting  evidence." 

The  judge  grunted.  "Heard  about  personal  mag- 
netism, have  n't  you?"  he  asked  tartly;  "that's  what 
he's  got.  I  sat  up  there  on  the  bench  and  listened 
when  he  began  to  address  the  jury.  I  Ve  heard  hun- 
dreds do  it ;  I  know  the  ropes.  Well,  sir,  he  took  me 
in;  I  thought  he  was  going  to  fall  flat.  He  began 
as  cool  and  slow  and  prosy  as  the  worst  old  drone 
we've  got;  then  he  went  on.  By  George,  David,  I 
was  spellbound.  I  clean  forgot  where  I  was;  I  sat 
and  gaped  like  a  ninny !  He  cut  right  through  their 
evidence ;  he  knocked  their  witnesses  out  one  by  one ; 
he  tore  their  logic  to  pieces,  and  then  he  closed. 
There  was  n't  a  shred  of  'em  left.  I  charged  the 
jury?  Yes,  hang  it !  But  I  knew  what  the  verdict 
would  be,  so  did  every  man-jack  in  the  court-room." 

"Remarkable!"  exclaimed  the  colonel.  "I  admit 
it,  Tommy;  I  was  there." 

"Then  why  the  devil  did  n't  you  say  so?"  snapped 
the  judge. 

"Thought  you  saw  me;  I  was  hi  the  front  row," 
replied  the  colonel,  with  a  broad  smile. 

"See  you?"  retorted  the  judge  fiercely,  "see  you? 


180  CALEB  TRENCH 

I  did  n't  see  a  damned  thing  but  that  young  shyster, 
and  before  he  got  through  I  could  have  hugged  him, 
yes,  sir,  hugged  him  for  making  that  speech." 

The  colonel  shook  with  laughter.  "Tommy,"  he 
began. 

But  just  then  there  were  two  sharp  reports  of  a 
pistol  near  at  hand,  followed  by  a  tumult  in  the 
street  below.  Both  men  hurried  to  the  window,  but 
the  jutting  wing  of  the  court-room  hid  the  center  of 
interest,  and  all  they  could  see  was  the  crowd  of 
human  beings  huddled  and  packed  in  the  narrow 
entrance  of  the  alley  that  led  to  the  Criminal  Court- 
room. There  were  confused  cries  and  shoutings, 
and  almost  immediately  the  gong  of  the  emergency 
ambulance. 

"Some  one  's  been  shot,"  said  Judge  Ladd  coolly; 
then  he  turned  from  the  window  and  halted  with  his 
finger  on  the  bell. 

The  door  from  the  court-room  had  opened  abruptly 
and  Judge  Hollis  came  in.  Both  Ladd  and  Colonel 
Royall  faced  him  in  some  anxiety;  there  was  an 
electric  current  of  excitement  in  the  air. 

"Yarnall  has  been  shot  dead,"  he  said  briefly. 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Judge  Ladd. 

Colonel  Royall  said  nothing,  but  turned  white. 

"Have  they  got  the  assassin?"  the  judge  de- 
manded, recovering  his  self-control. 

"No,"  replied  Judge  Hollis,  a  singular  expression 
on  his  face.  "No,  the  shot  was  fired  from  the  window 
of  the  court-room;  the  room  was  empty,  everybody 


CALEB  TRENCH  181 

at  dinner,  and  the  windows  open ;  the  pistol  is  on  the 
floor,  two  chambers  empty.  Only  one  man  was  seen 
in  the  window,  a  negro,  and  he  has  escaped." 

"A  negro?"  the  judge's  brows  came  down,  "no, 
no!"  Then  he  stopped  abruptly,  and  added,  after  a 
moment,  "Was  he  recognized?" 

"They  say  it  was  Juniper,"  said  Judge  Hollis 
stolidly. 

"Wild  nonsense!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Royall. 

Hollis  nodded.  His  hat  was  planted  firmly  on  his 
head  and  he  stood  like  a  rock.  "  Nevertheless,  there  's 
wild  talk  of  lynching.  Ladd,  I  think  we  'd  better  get 
the  lieutenant-governor  to  call  out  the  militia." 

The  storm  in  the  street  below  rose  and  fell,  like  a 
hurricane  catching  its  breath.  Colonel  Royall  looked 
out  of  the  window ;  the  crowd  hi  the  alley  had  over- 
flowed into  the  square,  and  swollen  there  to  overflow 
again  in  living  rivulets  into  every  side  street.  He 
looked  down  on  a  living  seething  mass  of  human 
beings.  The  sunlight  was  vivid  white;  the  heat 
seemed  to  palpitate  in  the  square ;  low  guttural  cries 
came  up.  The  names  of  Yarnall  and  Eaton  caught 
his  ear.  He  remembered  suddenly  the  significance 
of  Judge  Hollis'  glance  at  him,  and  he  did  not  need 
to  remember  the  blood  feud.  Suddenly  he  saw  the 
crowd  give  way  a  little  before  a  file  of  mounted 
police,  but  it  closed  again  sullenly,  gathered  the 
little  group  of  officers  into  its  bosom  and  waited. 

The  old  man  had  seen  many  a  fierce  fight,  he  had 
a  scar  that  he  had  received  at  the  Battle  of  the  Wilder- 


182  CALEB  TRENCH 

ness,  he  had  a  gunshot  wound  at  Gettysburg,  but  he 
felt  that  here  was  the  grimmest  of  all  revelations,  the 
slipping  of  the  leash,  the  wild  thing  escaping  from  its 
cage,  the  mob!  The  low  fierce  hum  of  anger  came 
up  and  filled  their  ears,  he  heard  the  voices  behind 
him,  the  rushing  feet  of  incoming  messengers,  the 
news  of  the  lieutenant-governor's  call  for  the  militia. 
Then  he  suddenly  remembered  Diana,  and  plunged 
abruptly  down-stairs. 

She  had  been  waiting  all  this  while  alone  in  the 
lower  room,  yet,  before  the  colonel  got  there,  Caleb 
Trench  came  back.  He  had  just  told  her  what  had 
happened  when  her  father  appeared. 

"My  dear  child,"  said  the  colonel,  "I  clean  forgot 
you!" 

Diana  was  very  pale,  but  she  smiled.  "I  know 
it,"  she  said,  glancing  at  Caleb.  "Once  father  got 
excited  at  the  races  at  Lexington  and  when  some  one 
asked  him  his  name,  he  couldn't  remember  it.  He 
paid  a  darkey  a  quarter  to  go  and  ask  Judge  Hollis 
who  he  was !  Colonel  Royall,  I  must  go  home." 

"So  you  must,"  agreed  the  colonel,  "but,  my  dear, 
the  crowd  is  —  er  —  is  rather  noisy." 

"It 's  a  riot,  is  n't  it?"   asked  Diana,  listening. 

They  heard,  even  then,  the  voice  of  it  shake  the 
still  hot  air.  Then,  quite  suddenly,  a  bugle  sounded 
sweetly,  clearlyv 

"The  militia,"  said  the  colonel,  in  a  tone  of  relief. 
"I  reckon  we  can  go  home  now." 

"You  can  go  by  the  back  way,"  said  Caleb  quietly; 


CALEB  TRENCH  183 

"stay  here  a  moment  and  I  '11  see  that  some  one  gets 
your  carriage  through  the  inner  gate.  The  troops 
will  drive  the  mob  out  of  the  square." 

He  had  started  to  leave  the  room  when  Colonel 
Royall  spoke.  "Is  —  is  Yarnall  really  quite  dead?" 

"  Killed  instantly,"  said  Caleb,  and  went  out. 

Diana  covered  her  face  with  her  hands;  she  had 
been  braving  it  out  before  him.  "Oh,  pa!"  she 
cried,  "how  dreadful!  I  was  almost  frightened  to 
death  and  —  and  I  always  thought  I  was  brave." 

"  You  are,"  said  the  colonel  fondly ;  "  I  was  a  brute 
"to  forget  you  —  but  —  well,  Diana,  it  was  tremen- 
dously shocking." 

Diana's  face  grew  whiter.  "Pa,"  she  said  sud- 
denly, "where  —  where  is  Jacob?" 

The  colonel  understood.  "God  knows!"  he  said, 
"but,  Diana,  he  wasn't  in  the  court-room!" 

"Oh,  thank  God !"  she  said. 

It  was  then  that  Caleb  came  back,  and  she  noticed 
how  pale  he  looked  and  how  worn,  for  the  long  weeks 
of  preparation  for  the  trial  and  the  final  ordeal  had 
worn  him  to  the  bone.  "The  carriage  is  waiting,"  he 
said  simply,  and  made  a  movement,  slight  but  definite, 
toward  Diana.  But  she  had  taken  her  father's  arm. 
The  colonel  thanked  the  younger  man  heartily,  yet 
his  manner  did  not  exactly  convey  an  invitation. 
Caleb  stood  aside,  therefore,  to  let  them  pass.  At  the 
door,  Diana  stopped  her  father  with  a  slight  pressure 
on  his  arm,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"Good-bye,"  she  said  quietly,  "and  thank  you." 


184  CALEB  TRENCH 

Caleb  watched  them  disappear  down  the  corridor 
to  the  rear  entrance  where  two  policemen  were  on 
guard.  Then  he  went  out,  bareheaded,  on  the  front 
steps  and  glanced  over  the  heads  of  the  troopers 
sitting  like  statues  on  their  horses  in  front  of  the 
court-house.  Yarnall's  body  had  been  carried  in  on 
a  stretcher,  and  a  detachment  of  the  governor's 
guard  filled  the  main  entrance.  Beyond  the  long 
files  of  soldiers  the  streets  were  packed  with  men 
and  women  and  even  children.  No  one  was  speaking 
now,  no  sounds  were  heard;  there  was,  instead,  a 
fearful  pause,  a  silence  that  seemed  to  Trench  more 
dreadful  than  tumult.  He  stood  an  instant  looking 
at  the  scene,  strangely  touched  by  it,  strangely  moved, 
too,  at  the  thought  of  the  strong  man  who  had  been 
laid  low  and  whose  life  was  snapped  at  one  flash, 
one  single  missile.  Death  stood  there  in  the  open 
court. 

Then  some  one  cried  out  shrilly  that  there  was 
Caleb  Trench,  the  counsel  for  Yarnall,  the  dead 
man's  victorious  defender,  and  at  the  cry  a  cheer 
went  up,  deep-throated,  fierce,  a  signal  for  riot.  The 
silence  was  gone;  the  crowd  broke,  rushed  forward, 
hurled  itself  against  the  line  of  fixed  bayonets,  crying 
for  the  assassin. 

A  bugle  sounded  again.  There  was  a  long  wavering 
flash  of  steel,  as  the  troopers  charged  amid  cries  and 
threats  and  flying  missiles.  A  moment  of  pande- 
monium and  again  the  masses  fell  away  and  the 
cordon  of  steel  closed  in  about  the  square. 


CALEB  TRENCH  185 

At  the  first  sound  of  his  name  Caleb  Trench  had 
gone  back  into  the  court-house.  On  the  main  stair- 
case he  saw  Governor  Aylett,  Jacob  Eaton  and  a 
group  of  lawyers  and  officers  of  the  militia.  He 
passed  them  silently  and  went  up-stairs.  Outside 
the  court-room  door  was  a  guard  of  police.  The  door 
of  Judge  Ladd's  inner  office  was  open  and  he  saw  that 
it  was  crowded  with  attorneys  and  officials.  Judge 
Hollis  came  out  and  laid  his  hand  on  Caleb's  shoulder. 

"My  boy,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  worst  day's  work 
that  has  ever  been  done  here,  and  they  want  to  lay 
it  on  a  poor  nigger." 

"I  know,"  replied  Caleb,  "he  was  the  only  one  seen 
at  the  window." 

"Yes,"  assented  Judge  Hollis,  "but,  by  the  Lord 
Harry,  I  'd  give  something  handsome  to  know  — 
who  was  behind  Juniper  1" 


XX 


IT  was  almost  morning  when  Caleb  Trench  reached 
home,  and  the  low  building  where  he  had  his 
office  —  he  had  closed  his  shop  a  month  before 
—  was  dark  and  cheerless. 

The  news  of  the  shooting  of  Yarnall,  and  the  sub- 
sequent rioting,  had  traveled  and  multiplied  like  a 
seed  blown  upon  the  winds  of  heaven.  Aunt  Charity 
had  heard  it  and  forgotten  her  charge.  Shot  was  on 
guard  before  the  dead  ashes  in  the  kitchen  stove,  and 
Sammy  lay  asleep  in  his  little  bed  in  the  adjoining 
room.  Fortunately  the  child  seemed  to  have  slept 
through  the  hours  that  had  elapsed  since  the  old 
woman's  departure.  Caleb  found  some  cold  supper 
set  out  for  him,  in  a  cheerless  fashion,  and  shared  it 
with  Shot,  strangely  beset,  all  the  while,  with  the 
thought  of  the  charm  and  comfort  of  Broad  Acres,  as 
it  had  been  revealed  to  him  in  his  infrequent  visits. 
Diana's  presence  in  the  basement  of  the  court- 
house had  changed  his  day  for  him,  and  he  recalled 
every  expression  of  her  charming  face,  the  swift  shy- 
ness of  her  glance,  when  his  own  must  have  been  too 
eloquent,  and  every  gesture  and  movement  during 
their  interview.  At  the  same  time  he  reflected  that 
nothing  could  have  been  more  unusual  than  her  pres- 


CALEB  TRENCH  is? 

ence  there  in  the  prisoner's  cage,  as  it, was  called,  and 
he  was  aware  of  a  feeling  of  relief  that  no  one  had 
found  them  there  together  at  a  time  when  his  smallest 
action  was  likely  to  be  a  matter  of  common  public 
interest. 

But  predominant,  even  over  these  thoughts,  was 
the  new  aspect  of  affairs.  Yarnall  was  dead,  and  as  a 
factor  in  the  gubernatorial  fight  he  was  personally 
removed,  but  his  tragic  death  was  likely  to  be  as 
potent  as  his  presence.  He  had  already  proved  to 
the  satisfaction  of  one  jury  that  his  defeat  in  the  con- 
vention was  due  solely  to  Aylett's  fraud  and  to  Eaton's 
hatred,  and  it  was  improbable  that,  even  in  a  vio- 
lently partisan  community,  justice  should  not  be 
done  at  last.  Besides,  the  frightful  manner  of  his 
taking  off  called  aloud  for  expiation.  The  tumult  at 
the  court-house  testified  to  the  passions  that  were 
stirred;  the  old  feud  between  the  Batons  and  the 
Yarnalls  awoke,  and  men  remembered,  and  related, 
how  YarnalPs  father  had  shot  Jacob  Eaton's  father. 
A  shiver  of  apprehension  ran  through  the  herded 
humanity  in  squares  and  alleys;  superstition  stirred. 
Was  this  the  requital?  The  old  doctrine,  an  eye  for 
an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  —  how  it  still  appeals  to 
the  savage  in  men's  blood.  The  crowd  pressed  in 
around  the  court-house  where  Yarnall's  body  lay  in 
state,  and  outside,  in  a  stiff  cordon,  stood  sentries; 
the  setting  sun  flashed  upon  their  bayonets  as  the 
long  tense  day  wore  to  its  close. 

In  the  court-house  Caleb  Trench  had  worked  tedi- 


188  CALEB  TRENCH 

ously  through  the  evening  with  Judge  Ladd  and  Judge 
Hollis.  A  thousand  matters  came  up,  a  thousand 
details  had  to  be  disposed  of,  and  when  he  returned 
home  at  midnight  he  was  too  exhausted  physically 
and  mentally  to  grapple  long  with  a  problem  at  once 
tiresome  and  apparently  insoluble.  He  dispatched 
his  supper,  therefore,  and  putting  out  the  light  went 
to  his  own  room.  But,  before  he  could  undress,  Shot 
uttered  a  sharp  warning  bark,  and  Caleb  went  back 
to  the  kitchen  carrying  a  light,  for  the  dog  was  per- 
fectly trained  and  not  given  to  false  alarms. 

His  master  found  him  with  his  nose  to  the  crack  of 
the  outer  door,  and  the  slow  but  friendly  movement 
of  his  tail  that  announced  an  acquaintance.  At  the 
same  time  there  was  a  low  knock  at  the  door. 

"Who  is  there?"  Caleb  demanded,  setting  his 
light  on  the  table  and,  at  the  same  time,  preparing  to 
unfasten  the  lock. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd,  Marse  Trench,  let  me  in!"  cried  a 
muffled  voice  from  the  outside,  and,  as  Caleb  opened 
the  door,  Juniper  nearly  fell  across  the  room. 

"Shet  de  doah,  massa,"  he  cried,  "lock  it;  dey  'a 
after  me!" 

It  was  intensely  dark,  being  just  about  half  an 
hour  before  dawn,  and  the  scent  of  morning  was  in  the 
air.  It  seemed  to  Caleb,  as  he  glanced  out,  that  the 
darkness  had  a  softly  dense  effect,  almost  as  if  it 
actually  had  a  substance ;  he  could  not  see  ten  yards 
from  the  threshold  and  the  silence  was  ominous.  He 
shut  the  door  and  locked  it  and  drew  down  the  shade 


CALEB  TRENCH  189 

over  the  kitchen  window ;  afterwards  he  remembered 
this  and  wondered  if  it  were  some  impulse  of  secretive- 
ness  that  prompted  a  movement  that  he  had  not 
considered. 

Meanwhile  Juniper  had  fallen  together  in  a  miser- 
able huddled  heap  by  the  stove.  His  head  was 
buried  hi  his  arms  and  he  was  sobbing  hi  terror, 
long-drawn  shivering  sobs  that  seemed  to  tear  his 
very  heart  out.  Trench  stood  looking  at  him,  knowing 
fully  what  suspicions  were  against  the  black,  and  tho 
terrible  threats  that  had  filled  the  town,  seething 
as  it  was  with  excitement  and  a  natural  hatred  of 
the  race.  That  Juniper  had  plotted  Yarnall's  death 
vas  an  absurdity  to  Trench's  mind;  that  he  might 
have  been  the  tool  of  another  was  barely  possible. 
On  the  other  hand,  his  chances  of  justice  from  the 
mob  were  too  small  to  be  considered.  His  very  pres- 
ence under  any  man's  roof  was  a  danger  as  poignant 
as  pestilence.  This  last  thought,  however,  had  no 
weight  with  Caleb  Trench.  The  stray  dog  guarded 
his  hearth,  the  nameless  child  lay  asleep  in  the  next 
room,  and  now  the  hunted  negro  cowered  before  him. 
It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that  the  personal 
side  of  it,  the  interpretation  that  might  be  put  upon 
his  conduct,  never  entered  his  calculations.  Instead, 
he  looked  long  and  sternly  at  the  negro. 

"Juniper,"  he  said,  "you  were  the  only  person 
seen  in  the  window  of  the  court-house  before 
the  assassination  of  Mr.  Yarnall.  Were  you  alone 
there?" 


190  CALEB  TRENCH 

Juniper  cowered  lower  in  his  seat.  "Fo'  de  Lawd, 
Marse  Trench,  I  can't  tell  you ! "  he  sobbed. 

"Who  was  in  the  room  with  you?"  asked  Trench 
sharply. 

"I  can't  tell!"  the  negro  whimpered;  "I  don' 
know." 

"  Yes,  you  do,"  said  Caleb,  "  and  you  will  be  forced 
to  tell  it  in  court.  Probably,  before  you  go  to  court, 
if  the  people  catch  you,"  he  added  cold-bloodedly. 

Juniper  fell  on  his  knees;  it  seemed  as  if  his  face 
had  turned  lead  color  instead  of  brown,  and  his  teeth 
chattered.  "Dey  's  gwine  ter  lynch  me !"  he  sobbed, 
"an'  fo'  de  Lawd,  massa,  I  ain't  done  it !" 

Caleb  looked  at  him  unmoved.  "If  you  know 
who  did  it,  and  do  not  tell,  you  are  what  they 
call  in  law  an  accessory  after  the  fact,  and  you  can  be 
punished." 

Juniper  shook  from  head  to  foot.  "Marse  Caleb," 
he  said,  with  sudden  solemnity,  "de  Lawd  made  us 
both,  de  white  an'  de  black,  I  ain't  gwine  ter  b'lieb 
dat  He  '11  ferget  me  bekase  I  'se  black !  I  ain't  mur- 
dered no  one." 

Caleb  regarded  him  in  silence;  the  force  and  elo- 
quence of  Juniper's  simple  plea  carried  its  own  con- 
viction. Yet,  he  knew  that  the  negro  could  name 
the  murderer  and  was  afraid  to.  There  was  a  tense 
moment,  then  far  off  a  sound,  awful  in  the  darkness 
of  early  morning,  —  the  swift  galloping  of  horses  on 
the  hard  highroad. 

"  Dey 's  comin',"  said  Juniper  in  a  dry  whisper,  his 


CALEB  TRENCH  191 

lips  twisting;  "  dey  's  comin'  ter  kill  me  —  de  Lawd 
hab  mercy  on  my  soul !" 

Nearer  drew  the  sound  of  horses'  feet,  nearer  the 
swift  and  awful  death.  Caleb  Trench  blew  out  his 
light;  through  the  window  crevices  showed  faint 
gray  streaks.  Shot  was  standing  up  now,  growling. 
Caleb  sent  him  into  the  room  with  little  Sammy,  and 
shut  the  door  on  them.  Then  he  took  the  almost 
senseless  negro  by  the  collar  and  dragged  him  to  the 
stairs. 

"Go  up!"  he  ordered  sternly;  "go  to  the  attic 
and  drag  up  the  ladder  after  you." 

Juniper  clung  to  him.  "Save  me!"  he  sobbed,  "I 
ain't  dun  it ;  I  ain't  murdered  him ! " 

"Go!"  ordered  Caleb  sharply. 

Already  there  was  a  summons  at  his  door,  and  he 
heard  the  trample  of  the  horses.  Juniper  went  crawl- 
ing up  the  stairs  and  disappeared  into  the  darkness 
above.  Caleb  went  to  his  desk  and  took  down  the 
telephone  receiver,  got  a  reply  and  sent  a  brief  mes- 
sage ;  then  he  quietly  put  his  pistol  in  his  pocket  and 
went  deliberately  to  the  front  door  and  threw  it  open. 
As  he  did  it  some  one  cut  the  telephone  connection, 
but  it  was  too  late.  In  the  brief  interval  since  he  had 
admitted  the  fugitive,  day  had  dawned  in  the  far 
East,  and  the  first  light  seemed  to  touch  the  world 
with  the  whiteness  of  wood  ashes;  even  the  cotton- 
woods  showed  weirdly  across  the  road.  All  around 
the  house  were  mounted  men,  and  nearly  every  man 
wore  a  black  mask.  The  sight  was  gruesome,  but  it 


192  CALEB  TRENCH 

stirred  something  like  wrath  in  Caleb's  heart;  how 
many  men  were  here  to  murder  one  poor  frightened 
creature,  with  the  intellect  of  a  child  and  the  soul  of 
a  savage! 

Caleb's  large  figure  seemed  to  fill  the  door,  as  he 
stood  with  folded  arms  and  looked  out  into  the  gray 
morning,  unmoved  as  he  would  look  some  day  into 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow.  Of  physical  cowardice  he 
knew  nothing,  of  moral  weakness  still  less;  he  had 
the  heroic  obstinacy  of  an  isolated  soul.  It  cost  him 
nothing  to  be  courageous,  because  he  had  never  known 
fear.  Unconsciously,  he  was  a  born  fighter ;  the  scent 
of  battle  was  breath  to  his  nostrils.  He  looked  over 
the  masked  faces  with  kindling  eyes ;  here  and  there 
he  recognized  a  man  and  named  him,  to  the  mask's 
infinite  dismay. 

"Your  visit  is  a  little  early,  gentlemen,"  he  said 
quietly,  "but  I  am  at  home." 

"Look  here,  Trench,  we  want  that  nigger!"  they 
yelled  back. 

"You  mean  Juniper?"  said  Caleb  coolly.  "Well, 
you  won't  get  him  from  me." 

"We  know  he's  about  here!"  was  the  angry  re- 
tort, "and  we'll  have  him,  d'ye  hear?" 

"I  hear,"  said  Caleb,  slipping  his  hand  into  his 
pocket.  "  You  can  search  the  woods ;  there  are  about 
three  miles  of  them  behind  me,  besides  the  highroad 
to  Paradise  Ridge." 

"We  're  going  to  search  your  house,"  replied  the 
leader;  "that 's  what  we  're  going  to  do." 


CALEB  TRENCH  193 

"Are  you?"  said  Caleb,  in  his  usual  tone,  his  eyes 
traveling  over  their  heads,  through  the  ghostly  out- 
lines of  the  cottonwoods,  past  the  tallest  pine  to  the 
brightening  eastern  sky. 

Something  hi  his  aspect,  something  which  is  always 
present  in  supreme  courage,  —  that  impalpable  but 
strenuous  thing  which  quells  the  hearts  of  men  be- 
fore a  leader,  —  quenched  their  fury. 

"  Look  here,  Caleb  Trench,  you  were  Yarnall's  law- 
yer ;  you  ain't  in  the  damned  Eaton  mess.  Where 's 
that  Eaton  nigger?" 

Caleb's  hand  closed  on  the  handle  of  his  revolver  hi 
his  pocket.  "  Gentlemen,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I  happen  to 
know  that  the  negro,  Juniper,  did  not  shoot  Mr.  Yar- 
nall,  and  if  I  know  where  he  is  now  I  will  not  tell  you." 

"By  God,  you  shall!"  yelled  the  nearest  rioter, 
swinging  forward  with  uplifted  fist. 

He  swung  almost  on  the  muzzle  of  Caleb's  revolver. 

"  One  step  farther  and  you  're  a  dead  man,"  Trench 
said. 

The  would-be  lyncher  lurched  backward.  In  the 
white  light  of  dawn  Caleb's  gaunt  figure  loomed,  his 
stern  face  showed  its  harshest  lines,  and  there  was 
fire  hi  his  eyes.  A  stone  flew  and  struck  him  a  little 
below  the  shoulder,  another  rattled  on  the  shingles 
beside  the  door;  there  was  a  low  ominous  roar  from 
the  mob;  right  and  left  men  were  dismounting, 
and  horses  plunged  and  neighed. 

"Give  up  that  damned  nigger  or  die  yourself!" 
was  the  cry,  taken  up  and  echoed. 

13 


194  CALEB  TRENCH 

Within  the  house  Shot  began  to  bark  furiously,  and 
there  was  suddenly  the  shrill  crying  of  a  child. 

"Jean  Bartlett !"  some  one  shouted. 

"Ay,  let 's  hang  him,  too  —  for  her  sake !" 

There  were  cheers  and  hisses.  Caleb  neither  moved 
nor  shut  the  door. 

"Give  us  that  nigger!"  they  howled,  crowding 
up. 

By  a  miracle,  as  it  seemed,  he  had  kept  them  about 
three  yards  from  the  entrance  in  a  semicircle,  and  here 
they  thronged  now.  From  the  first  they  had  sur- 
rounded the  house,  and  the  possibility  of  an  entrance 
being  forced  in  the  rear  flashed  upon  Caleb.  But  he 
counted  a  little  on  the  curiosity  that  kept  them  hang- 
ing on  his  movements,  watching  the  leaders.  He  saw 
at  a  glance  that  there  was  no  real  organization,  that  a 
motley  crowd  had  fallen  in  with  the  one  popular  idea 
of  lynching  the  negro  offender,  and  that  a  breath  of 
real  fear  would  dissolve  them  like  the  mists  which 
were  rolling  along  the  river  bottoms. 

"Where  's  that  nigger?"  came  the  cry  again,  and 
then :  "  It 's  time  you  remembered  Jean  Bartlett ! " 

One  of  the  leaders,  a  big  man  whom  Caleb  failed  to 
recognize,  was  still  mounted.  He  rose  in  his  stirrups. 
"Hell !"  he  said,  "he  's  got  the  child;  if  he  had  n't, 
I  'd  burn  him  out." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Caleb  coolly,  raising  his  hand  to 
command  attention,  "I  will  give  the  child  to  your 
leader's  care  if  you  wish  to  fire  my  house.  I  do  not 
want  to  be  protected  by  the  boy,  nor  by  any  false  im- 


CALEB  TRENCH  195 

pression  that  I  am  expiating  an  offense  against  Jean 
Bartlett." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  again,  then  a  soli- 
tary cheer  amid  a  storm  of  hisses.  A  tumult  of  shout- 
ings and  blasphemies  drowned  all  coherent  speech. 
Men  struggled  forward  and  stopped  speechless,  star- 
ing at  the  unmoved  figure  in  the  door,  and  the  grim 
muzzle  of  his  six-shooter.  It  was  full  day  now,  and 
murder  and  riot  by  daylight  are  tremendous  things ; 
they  make  the  soul  of  the  coward  quake.  There 
were  men  here  and  there  in  the  crowd  who  shivered, 
and  some  never  forgot  it  until  their  dying  day. 

"  Give  us  the  nigger ! " 

Caleb  made  no  reply;  his  finger  was  on  the  trigger. 
There  was  a  wild  shout  and,  as  they  broke  and  rushed, 
Caleb  fired.  One  man  went  down,  another  fell  back, 
the  mob  closed  in,  pandemonium  reigned.  Then  there 
was  a  warning  cry  from  the  rear,  the  clear  note  of  a 
bugle,  the  thunder  of  more  horses'  hoofs,  the  flash  of 
bayonets,  and  a  file  of  troopers  charged  down  the  long 
lane;  there  was  a  volley,  a  flash  of  fire  and  smoke. 
Men  mounted  and  rode  for  life,  and  others  fell  be- 
neath the  clubbed  bayonets  into  the  trampled  dust. 

In  the  doorway  Caleb  Trench  stood,  white  and 
disheveled,  with  blood  on  his  forehead,  but  still 
unharmed. 


XXI 

COLONEL  ROYALL  was  reading  an  extra  edi- 
tion of  the  morning  paper ;  it  contained  a  full 
account  of  the  attempted  lynching,  and  the 
timely  arrival  of  the  militia.  The  colonel  was  smok- 
ing a  big  cigar  and  the  lines  of  his  face  were  more 
placid  than  they  had  been  for  a  week,  but  his  brow 
clouded  a  little  as  he  looked  down  the  broad  drive- 
way and  saw  Jacob  Eaton  approaching.  Jacob,  of 
late,  had  been  somewhat  in  the  nature  of  a  stormy 
petrel.  Nor  did  the  colonel  feel  unlimited  confidence 
in  the  younger  man's  j  udgment ;  he  was  beginning  to 
feel  uneasy  about  certain  large  transactions  which  he 
had  trusted  to  Jacob's  management. 

The  situation,  however,  was  uppermost  hi  the 
colonel's  mind?  He  dropped  the  paper  across  his 
knee  and  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  cigar.  Jacob's 
smooth  good  looks  had  never  been  more  apparent 
and  he  was  dressed  with  his  usual  elaborate  care. 
Nothing  could  have  sat  on  him  more  lightly  than  the 
recent  verdict,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  out  on  bail. 
Colonel  Royall,  who  was  mortified  by  it,  looked  at 
him  with  a  feeling  of  exasperation. 

"Been  in  town?"  he  asked,  after  the  exchange  of 
greetings,  as  Jacob  ascended  the  piazza  steps. 


CALEB  TRENCH  197 

"All  the  morning,"  he  replied,  sitting  down  on  the 
low  balustrade  and  regarding  the  colonel  from  under 
heavy  eyelids. 

"How  is  it?  Quiet?"  The  colonel  was  always 
sneakingly  conscious  of  a  despicable  feeling  of  panic 
when  Jacob  regarded  him  with  that  drooping  but 
stony  stare. 

"Militia  is  still  out,"  said  Jacob  calmly,  "and  if 
the  disturbances  continue  the  governor  threatens  to 
call  on  Colonel  Ross  for  a  company  of  regulars." 

"He's  nervous,"  commented  the  colonel  reflec- 
tively. "I  don't  wonder.  How  in  the  mischief  did 
Aylett  happen  to  be  near  Yarnall?" 

Jacob  looked  pensive.  "I  don't  know,"  he  said; 
"I  was  in  the  rear  corridor  by  the  State's  Attorney's 
room.  They  say  Aylett  was  crossing  the  quadrangle 
just  in  front  of  Yarnall." 

The  colonel  smoked  for  a  few  moments  in  silence, 
then  he  took  his  cigar  from  between  his  teeth.  "  What 
were  you  doing  in  the  corridor?"  he  asked  pointedly. 

Jacob  took  a  cigarette  out  of  his  pocket  and  lit  it. 
"I  was  going  to  Colonel  Goad's  office,  and  I  was  the 
first  to  try  to  locate  the  shots  outside  the  court- 
house." 

"I  was  in  Judge  Ladd's  room,"  said  Colonel  Royall 
deliberately,  "  and  I  reckon  that  was  as  near  as  I  want 
to  be.  I  see  by  this  "  —  he  touched  the  paper  with 
his  finger  —  "  that  Caleb  Trench  induced  Juniper  to 
surrender  to  the  authorities,  and  he  says  that  he  's 
sure  he  can  prove  the  negro's  innocence." 


198  CALEB  TRENCH 

Jacob  laughed,  showing  his  teeth  unpleasantly. 
"Probably  he  can,"  he  remarked;  "he's  under 
arrest  himself." 

The  colonel  swung  around  in  his  chair.  "Caleb 
Trench?  What  for?" 

"For  the  assassination  of  Yarnall." 

"By  gum!"  said  the  colonel  in  honest  wrath, 
"what  rotten  nonsense!" 

Jacob  said  nothing;  he  continued  to  smoke  his 
cigarette. 

The  colonel  slapped  the  paper  down  on  his  knee. 
"When  men's  blood  is  heated,  they  run  wild,"  he 
said.  "Why,  Trench  was  YarnalFs  counsel;  he'd 
won  the  case  for  him  —  he  —  " 

"Just  so,"  replied  Jacob  coolly;  "you  forget  that 
Aylett  had  insulted  Trench  twice  in  court,  that  he 
despised  him  as  heartily  as  I  do  and  that  Aylett  was 
almost  beside  Yarnall!" 

The  colonel  pushed  his  hat  back  on  his  head  and 
thought.  He  knew  that  Eaton  hated  Trench,  but  his 
mind  did  not  embrace  the  enormity  of  a  hatred  that 
could  revel  in  such  an  accusation.  "The  charge 
then  must  be  that  he  meant  to  hit  Aylett,"  he 
said,  after  a  long  moment,  "and  that  makes  him 
take  big  risks.  These  Yankees  are  n't  good  shots, 
half  of  'em." 

Jacob  laughed  unpleasantly.  "Well,  I  reckon  he 
was  n't,"  he  remarked,  and  as  his  thoughts  went 
back  to  a  certain  gray  morning  in  Little  Neck  Meadow, 
his  face  reddened. 


CALEB  TRENCH  199 

• 

The  colonel  wriggled  uncomfortably  in  his  chair. 
"What  did  he  want  to  shoot  Aylett  for?"  he 
demanded. 

"  You  've  forgotten,  I  suppose,  that  Aylett  called 
him  a  liar  twice  in  court,"  said  Jacob  dryly. 

"He  didn't  shoot  you  for  a  greater  provocation," 
retorted  the  colonel  bluntly. 

"He  was  the  only  man  found  in  the  court-room 
with  the  smoking  weapon,"  said  Jacob.  "Juniper 
ran  away,  and  he  's  been  protecting  Juniper,  —  buy- 
ing him  off  from  testifying,  I  reckon." 

"I  can't  understand  why  either  he  or  Juniper  was 
in  the  court-room,"  declared  the  colonel,  frowning. 

"Had  good  reason  to  be,"  replied  Jacob  tartly, 
tossing  his  cigarette  over  the  rail. 

"See  here,  Jacob,"  said  the  colonel  solemnly,  "I  'm 
an  old  man  and  your  relation,  and  I  feel  free  to  give 
you  advice.  You  keep  your  oar  out  of  it." 

Jacob  laughed.    "I  've  got  to  testify,"  he  drawled. 

"Good  Lord !"  exclaimed  the  colonel. 

Then  followed  several  moments  of  intense  silence. 

"Where  's  Diana?"  asked  the  young  man  at  last, 
rising  and  flipping  some  ashes  off  his  coat. 

"  In  the  flower  garden,"  replied  her  father  thought- 
fully, "she's  seeing  to  some  plants  for  winter;  I 
reckon  she  won't  want  you  around." 

Jacob  looked  more  agreeable.  "  I  think  I  '11  go  all 
the  same,"  he  said,  strolling  away. 

The  colonel  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  called 
after  him.  "Jacob,  how  about  those  stocks?  I 


200  CALEB  TRENCH 

wanted  to  sell  out  at  eight  and  three  quarter 
cents." 

Eaton  paused  reluctantly,  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"You  can  next  week,"  he  said;  "the  market's 
slumped  this.  You  'd  better  let  me  handle  that  deal 
right  through,  Cousin  David." 

"You've  been  doing  it  straight  along,"  said  the 
colonel.  "  I  reckon  I  'd  better  wake  up  and  remem- 
ber that  I  used  to  know  something.  I  'm  equal  to 
strong  meats  yet,  Jacob,  and  you  've  been  putting 
me  on  pap." 

"Oh,  it's  all  right!"  said  Jacob.  "I'll  sell  the 
shares  out  for  you,"  and  he  departed. 

The  colonel  sat  watching  him.  The  old  thought 
that  he  would  probably  marry  Diana  no  longer  had 
any  attractions  for  him;  he  had  lost  confidence  in 
Jacob's  sleek  complacence,  and  the  recent  testimony 
in  court  had  shaken  it  still  more.  Besides,  he  had  a 
fine  pride  of  family,  and  the  verdict  against  Jacob 
had  irritated  and  mortified  him.  Nothing  was  too 
good  for  Diana,  and  the  fact  that  there  was  the  shadow 
of  a  great  sorrow  upon  her  made  her  even  dearer  to 
her  father.  He  had  never  thought  that  she  had  more 
than  a  passing  fancy  for  Jacob,  and  lately  he  had 
suspected  that  she  disliked  him.  The  colonel  rumi- 
nated, strumming  on  the  piazza  balustrade  with  ab- 
sent fingers.  Before  him  the  long  slope  of  the  lawn 
was  still  as  green  as  summer,  but  the  horse-chestnut 
burs  were  open  and  the  glossy  nuts  fell  with  every 
light  breeze.  Across  the  road  a  single  gum  tree  waved 
a  branch  of  flame. 


CALEB  TRENCH  201 

He  was  still  sitting  there  when  Kingdom-Come 
brought  out  a  mint  julep  and  arranged  it  on  the  table 
at  his  elbow. 

The  colonel  glanced  up,  conscious  that  the  negro 
lingered.  "What's  the  matter,  King?"  he  asked 
good-humoredly. 

"News  from  town,  suh,"  the  black  replied,  flicking 
some  dust  off  the  table  with  his  napkin.  "  Dey  's 
tried  ter  storm  de  jail,  suh.  De  militia  charged,  an' 
deyer  's  been  right  smart  shootin'." 

Colonel  Royall  looked  out  apprehensively  over  the 
slope  to  the  south  which  showed  in  the  distance  the 
spires  and  roofs  of  the  city.  A  blue  fog  of  smoke 
hung  low  over  it  and  the  horizon  beyond  had  the 
haze  of  autumn.  "Bad  news,"  said  he,  shaking  his 
head. 

"It  suttinly  am,  suh,"  agreed  Kingdom-Come, 
"  an'  dey  do  say  dat  Aunt  Charity  ez  gwine  ter  leave 
Juniper  now  fo'  sho." 

"She  's  left  him  at  intervals  for  forty  years,"  said 
the  colonel,  tasting  his  julep ;  "  I  reckon  he  can  stand 
it,  King." 

The  negro  grinned.  "I  reckon  so,  suh,"  he  as- 
sented. "  Juniper  dun  said  once  dat  he  'd  gib  her  her 
fare  ef  she  'd  go  by  rail  an'  stay  away!" 

Just  then  Miss  Kitty  Broughton  stopped  her  pony 
cart  at  the  gate  and  came  across  the  lawn.  The 
colonel  rose  ceremoniously  and  greeted  her,  hat  in 
hand. 

"Where  's  Diana?"  Kitty  asked  eagerly. 


202  CALEB  TRENCH 

"  In  the  rose  garden  with  Jacob,  my  dear,"  said  the 
colonel. 

Kitty  made  a  grimace.  "  Noblesse  oblige,"  she  said ; 
"  I  suppose  I  must  stay  here.  Colonel,  is  n't  it  all 
dreadful?  Grandfather  can't  keep  from  swearing, 
he  is  n't  respectable,  and  Aunt  Sally  has  Sammy." 
Kitty  blushed  suddenly.  "  I  took  Shot,  the  dog,  you 
know;  they  won't  let  Mr.  Trench  have  bail." 

"  It 's  the  most  inexplicable  thing  I  know  of,"  said 
the  colonel,  stroking  his  white  moustache.  "Why 
Caleb  Trench  should  shoot  his  own  client  —  " 

Kitty  stared.  "Why,  Colonel,  you  know,  don't 
you,  that  the  arrest  was  made  on  Jacob  Eaton's 
affidavit?" 

Colonel  Royall  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  Kitty 
found  his  expression  inexplicable.  "How  long  have 
you  known  this?"  he  asked. 

"Since  morning,"  said  Kitty  promptly.  "Grandpa 
told  us ;  he  's  furious,  but  he  says  it 's  a  good  case. 
It  seems  Mr.  Eaton  saw  Mr.  Trench  first  hi  the  court- 
room. The  two  shots  were  fired,  you  know,  in  quick 
succession.  Juniper  was  seen  by  some  one  at  the 
window  just  before;  no  one  saw  who  fired  the  shots, 
but  Mr.  Eaton  met  Caleb  Trench  leaving  the  room. 
No  one  else  was  there,  and  Mr.  Trench  says  that 
Juniper  did  not  fire  the  shots.  Juniper  is  half  dead 
with  fright,  and  in  the  jail  hospital;  he  went  out 
of  his  head  this  morning  when  the  mob  tried  to  rush 
the  jail.  It 's  awful;  they  say  six  people  were  killed 
and  three  wounded." 


CALEB  TRENCH  203 

"Caleb  Trench  wounded  two  last  night,"  said  the 
colonel.  He  had  the  air  of  a  man  in  a  dream. 

"They  won't  die,"  replied  Kitty,  cold-bloodedly, 
"  and  it 's  a  good  thing  to  stop  these  lynchers.  Was  n't 
Mr.  Trench  grand?  I  'm  dying  to  go  and  see  him  and 
tell  him  how  I  admired  the  account  of  him  facing  the 
mob.  What  does  Di  think?" 

"She  hasn't  said,"  replied  the  colonel,  suddenly 
remembering  that  Diana's  silence  was  unusual.  He 
looked  apprehensively  toward  the  rose  garden  and 
saw  the  flutter  of  a  white  dress  through  an  open- 
ing in  the  box  hedge.  "Kitty,"  he  added  abruptly, 
"you  go  over  there  and  see  Diana  and  ask  her 
yourself." 

"While  Mr.  Eaton's  there?"  Kitty  giggled.  "I 
could  n't,  Colonel  Royall ;  he  'd  hate  me." 

The  colonel  looked  reflectively  at  the  young  girl 
sitting  in  the  big  chair  opposite.  She  was  very  pretty 
and  her  smile  was  charming.  "  I  don't  think  he  'd 
hate  you,  my  dear,"  he  remarked  dryly,  "and  I  know 
Diana  wants  to  see  you." 

Kitty  hesitated.  "I  don't  like  to  interrupt,"  she 
demurred. 

"You  won't,"  said  the  colonel,  a  little  viciously. 

Kitty  rose  and  descended  the  steps  to  the  lawn, 
nothing  loath ;  then  she  stopped  and  looked  over  her 
shoulder.  "Mr.  Trench  will  be  tried  immediately," 
she  said ;  "  the  Grand  Jury  indicted  him  this  morning." 

The  colonel's  frown  of  perplexity  deepened.  "I 
call  it  indecent  haste,"  he  said. 


204  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Grandpa  is  to  defend  him,"  said  Kitty,  "and 
we  're  proud  of  him.  I  think  Caleb  Trench  is  a  real 
hero,  Colonel  Roy  all." 

The  colonel  sighed.  "I  wish  Jacob  was/'  he 
thought,  but  he  did  not  speak. 


XXII 

JUDGE  HOLLIS  was  writing  in  his  office.  He 
had  been  writing  five  hours  and  the  green  shade 
of  his  lamp  was  awry,  while  his  briar-wood  had 
just  gone  out  for  the  ninety-ninth  time.  Some  one 
knocked  twice  on  the  outer  door  before  he  noticed  it. 
Then  he  shouted:  "Come  in!" 

After  some  fumbling  with  the  lock  the  door  opened, 
and  Zeb  Bartlett's  shambling  figure  lurched  into  the 
room.  He  came  hi  boldly,  but  cowered  as  he  met'the 
judge's  fierce  expression.  The  old  man  swung  around 
in  his  chair  and  faced  him,  his  great  overhanging 
brows  drawn  together  over  glowing  eyes,  and  his  lip 
thrust  out. 

The  boy  was  stricken  speechless,  and  stood  hat  in 
hand,  feebly  rubbing  the  back  of  his  head.  The  judge, 
who  hated  interruption  and  loathed  incompetence, 
scowled.  "What  d'  ye  want  here?"  he  demanded. 

Zeb  wet  his  parched  lips  with  his  tongue.  "I 
want  the  law  on  him,"  he  mumbled;  "I  want  the 
law  on  him ! " 

"What  in  thunder  are  you  mumbling  about?" 
demanded  the  old  man  impatiently ;  "  some  one  stole 
your  wits?" 

"It  was  him  did  my  sister  wrong,"  Zeb  said,  his 


206  CALEB  TRENCH 

tongue  loosed  between  fear  and  hate;  "it's  him,  and 
I  want  him  punished  —  now  they've  got  him !" 

Judge  Hollis  threw  the  pen  that  he  had  been  hold- 
ing suspended  into  the  ink-well.  "See  here,  Zeb," 
he  said,  "if  you  can  tell  us  who  ruined  your  poor 
crazed  sister,  why,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  I'd  like  to 
punish  him ! " 

Zeb  looked  cunning;  he  edged  nearer  to  the  desk. 
"I  can  tell  you,"  he  said,  "I  can  tell  you  right  cl'ar 
off,  but  —  I  want  him  punished ! " 

"May  be  the  worst  we  can  do  is  to  make  him  take 
care  of  the  child,"  said  Judge  Hollis. 

"That  won't  do,"  said  Zeb,  "that  ain't  enough; 
he  left  her  to  starve,  and  me  to  starve  —  she  tole  me 
who  it  was!" 

Judge  Hollis  was  not  without  curiosity,  but  he 
restrained  it  manfully.  He  even  took  his  paper- 
cutter  and  folded  the  paper  before  him  in  little  plaits. 
"Zeb,"  he  said,  "it's  a  rotten  business,  but  the  girl's 
dead  and  Caleb  Trench  has  taken  the  child  and  — " 

"It's  him,  curse  him,  it's  him!"  Zeb  cried,  shak- 
ing his  fist. 

Judge  Hollis  dropped  the  paper-cutter  and  rose 
from  his  chair,  his  great  figure,  in  the  long  dark  blue 
coat,  towering. 

"How  dare  you  say  that?"  he  demanded,  "you 
cur  —  you  skunk ! " 

But  Zeb  was  ugly ;  he  set  his  teeth,  and  his  crazy 
eyes  flashed.  "I  tell  you  it's  him,"  he  cried;  "ain't 
I  said  she  tole  me?" 


CALEB  TRENCH  207 

"Damn  you,  I  don't  believe  you,"  the  judge 
shouted;  "it's  money  you  want,  money!"  He 
grabbed  the  shaking  boy  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  as 
a  dog  takes  a  rat,  and  shook  him.  "You  clear  out," 
he  raged,  "  and  you  keep  your  damned  lying,  dirty 
tongue  still!"  and  flung  him  out  and  locked  the 
door. 

Then,  panting  slightly,  he  went  back  to  his  seat, 
swung  it  to  his  desk  again,  rolled  back  his  cuffs  and 
wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead.  Then  he 
pulled  his  pen  out  of  the  ink-well  and  shook  the  sur- 
plus ink  over  the  floor  and  began  to  write ;  he  wrote 
two  pages  and  dropped  his  pen.  His  head  sank,  his 
big  shoulders  bowed  over,  he  was  lost  in  thought. 
He  thought  there  for  an  hour,  while  nothing  stirred 
except  the  mouse  that  was  gnawing  his  old  law- 
books  and  had  persistently  evaded  Miss  Sarah's 
vigilance.  Then  the  judge  brought  his  great  fist 
down  on  his  desk,  and  the  ink-well  danced,  and  the 
pen  rolled  off. 

"My  God!"  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  "I've  loved 
him  like  a  son,  the  girl  was  treated  like  hell  —  it 
can't  be  true ! " 

He  rose,  jammed  his  hat  down  on  his  head  and 
walked  out ;  he  walked  the  streets  for  hours. 

It  was  very  late  when  he  was  admitted  to  the  old 
jail.  It  was  past  time  to  admit  visitors,  but  the 
judge  was  a  privileged  person.  The  warden  gave 
up  his  private  room  to  him  and  sent  for  the  prisoner. 
The  lamp  burnt  low  on  the  desk,  and  the  old  judge 


208  CALEB  TRENCH 

sat  before  it,  heavy  with  thought.  He  looked  up 
mechanically  when  Caleb  came  in  with  his  quick 
firm  step  and  faced  him.  The  two  greeted  each  other 
without  words,  and  Caleb  sat  down,  waiting.  He 
knew  his  visitor  had  something  on  his  mind. 

Judge  Hollis  looked  at  him,  studying  him,  study- 
ing the  clear-cut  lines,  the  hollowed  cheeks,  the 
clear  gray  eyes,  the  chiseled  lips,  —  not  a  handsome 
face,  but  one  of  power.  The  sordid  wretchedness  of 
the  story,  like  a  foul  weed  springing  up  to  choke  a 
useful  plant,  struck  him  again  with  force  and  disgust. 

"I've  just  seen  Zeb  Bartlett,"  he  said;  "he's 
raving  to  punish  the  man  who  wronged  his  sister. 
He  says  you  did  it!"  The  old  man  glared  fiercely 
at  the  young  one. 

Caleb's  expression  was  slightly  weary,  distinctly 
disappointed;  he  had  hoped  for  something  of  im- 
portance. The  story  of  Jean  Bartlett  was  utterly 
unimportant  in  his  life.  "I  know  it,"  he  said  briefly; 
"it  is  easy  to  accuse,  more  difficult  to  prove  the 
truth." 

The  judge  leaned  forward,  his  clasped  hands  hang- 
ing between  his  knees,  his  head  lowered.  "Caleb," 
he  said,  "maybe  it's  not  right  to  ask  you,  but,  be- 
tween man  and  man,  I'd  like  to  know  God's  truth." 

Caleb  Trench  returned  the  old  man's  look  calmly. 
"Judge,"  he  said,  "have  you  ever  known  me  to 
steal?" 

The  judge  shook  his  head. 

"Or  to  lie?" 


CALEB  TRENCH  209 

Again  the  judge  dissented. 

"Then  why  do  you  accuse  me  in  your  heart  of 
wronging  a  half-witted  girl?"  he  asked  coldly. 

The  judge  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  twice 
across  the  room;  then  he  stopped  in  front  of  the 
younger  man.  "Caleb,"  he  said,  "by  the  Lord 
Harry,  I'm  plumb  ashamed  to  ask  you  to  forgive 
me." 

Caleb  smiled  a  little  sadly.  "Judge,"  he  said, 
"there's  nothing  to  forgive.  Without  your  friend- 
ship I  should  have  been  a  lost  man.  I  understand. 
Slander  has  a  hundred  tongues." 

"Zeb  Bartlett  is  shouting  the  accusation  to  the 
four  winds  of  heaven,  I  presume,"  said  the  judge, 
" and  there's  the  child  —  you  — " 

"I've  taken  him,"  said  Caleb,  "and  I  mean  to 
keep  him.  I've  known  poverty,  I've  known  home- 
lessness,  I've  known  slander;  the  kid  has  got  to  face 
it  all,  and  he  won't  do  it  without  one  friend." 

The  judge  looked  at  him  a  long  time,  then  he  went 
over  and  clapped  his  hand  down  on  his  shoulder. 
"By  the  Lord  Hany !"  he  said,  "you're  a  man,  and 
I  respect  you.  Let  them  talk  —  to  the  devil ! " 

"  Amen !"  said  Caleb  Trench. 


14 


XXIII 


W~"HEN  the  case  of  the  Commonwealth  versus 
Caleb  Trench  was  called,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  convene  the  court  in  the 
old  criminal  court-room  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the 
quadrangle.  The  room  from  which  Yarnall  had 
been  shot,  known  as  Criminal  Court  Number  One, 
was  too  open  to  the  square,  and  too  conveniently 
located  as  a  storm  center.  The  old  court-room  fac- 
ing northeast  was  smaller,  and  so  poorly  lighted  that 
dull  mornings  it  was  necessary  to  burn  lights  on  the 
judge's  desk  and  at  the  recorder's  table.  It  opened 
on  the  inner  court,  and  the  only  thing  seen  from  the 
window  was  the  tree  of  heaven,  which  was  turning 
a  dingy  yellow  and  dropping  its  frond-like  leaves 
into  the  court  below.  During  half  the  trial  Aaron 
Todd's  son  and  another  youngster  sat  in  this  tree 
and  peered  in  the  windows,  the  room  being  too 
crowded  for  admittance;  but  when  Miss  Royall 
testified  even  the  windows  were  so  stuffed  with 
humanity  that  the  two  in  the  tree  saw  nothing,  and 
roosted  in  disappointment. 

,In  the  quadrangle  before  the  court-house,  and  in 
a  hollow  square  around  it,  were  the  troops,  through 


CALEB  TRENCH  211 

the  whole  trial,  and  after  a  while  one  got  used  to  the 
rattle  of  their  guns  as  they  changed  at  noon.  Men 
fought  for  places  in  the  court-room,  and  the  whole 
left-hand  side  was  packed  solid  with  young  and 
pretty  women.  The  figure  of  Caleb  Trench,  since 
his  famous  Cresset  speech,  had  loomed  large  on  the 
horizon,  and  the  account  of  the  frustrated  lynching 
added  a  thrilling  touch  of  romance.  Besides,  Jacob 
Eaton  was  to  testify  against  him,  and  that  alone 
would  have  drawn  an  audience.  The  thrill  of  danger, 
the  clash  of  the  sentry's  rifle  in  the  quadrangle,  the 
constant  dread  of  riots,  added  a  piquancy  to  the 
situation  that  was  like  a  dash  of  fine  old  wine  in  a 
ragout.  The  room  was  packed  to  suffocation,  and 
reporters  for  distant  newspapers  crowded  the  re- 
porters' table,  for  the  case  was  likely  to  be  of  national 
interest.  The  doors  and  the  corridors  were  thronged, 
and  a  long  line  waited  admission  on  the  staircase. 
Some  failed  to  get  in  the  first  or  the  second  day,  and 
being  desperate  stayed  all  night  outside,  and  so  were 
admitted  on  the  third  day. 

Judge  Hollis  had  charge  of  the  defense,  and  it 
was  expected  that  he  would  ask  a  change  of  venue, 
but  he  did  not.  Instead  he  tried  to  get  a  jury,  using 
all  his  privileges  to  challenge.  It  was  almost  im- 
possible to  get  an  unbiased  juror  and,  at  the  end  of 
a  week,  he  had  exhausted  two  panels  and  was  on 
another.  On  the  fifteenth  day  he  got  a  jury  and 
the  public  drew  breath.  Judge  Ladd  was  on  the 
bench,  —  a  fair  but  choleric  man,  and  known  to  be 


212  CALEB  TRENCH 

rather  unfavorable  to  the  prisoner.  Bail  had  been 
absolutely  refused,  and  Caleb  Trench  shared  the 
fate  of  the  other  prisoners  in  the  jail,  except,  indeed, 
that  he  was  doubly  watched,  for  the  tide  of  men's 
passions  rose  and  fell.  He  had  been  almost  a  pop- 
ular idol;  he  was,  therefore,  doubly  likely  to  be  a 
popular  victim,  and  Aylett  went  far  and  wide  de- 
claring that  he  believed  the  shot  was  intended  for 
him,  and  that  Yarnall  had  suddenly  passed  between 
him  and  the  window  at  the  fateful  moment. 

On  the  other  hand  Jacob  Eaton  spoke  freely  of 
Jean  Bartlett  and  her  child.  The  scandal  traveled 
like  a  fire  in  prairie  grass,  and  Jean,  who  had  been 
in  life  the  Shameful  Thing  of  Paradise  Ridge,  became 
now  a  persecuted  martyr,  and  Trench  the  monster 
who  had  ruined  her  life.  The  fact  that  he  had  taken 
the  child,  instead  of  being  in  his  favor,  recoiled 
strongly  against  him.  He  was  watched  as  he  sat  in 
the  prisoners'  dock,  and  every  expression  of  his  stern 
and  homely  face  was  noted;  the  slight  awkwardness 
of  his  tall  figure  seemed  more  visible,  and  men  were 
even  startled  by  his  eyes.  It  may  be  added  that  the 
women  found  them  most  interesting,  especially  when 
that  sudden  light  flashed  into  them  that  had  cowed 
so  many  of  the  weaker  brethren.  Like  all  strong, 
blunt  men,  Caleb  had  made  his  enemies,  and  now, 
in  the  hour  of  his  need,  they  multiplied  like  flies. 
Misfortune  breeds  such  insects  as  readily  as  swamp- 
lands breed  mosquitoes. 

"I'd  be  ashamed  to  say  I  knew  that  shyster,"  one 


CALEB  TRENCH  213 

of  the  Eaton  faction  said  in  the  crowded  court-room 
at  noon  recess,  and  Dr.  Cheyney  heard  him. 

The  old  man  snorted.  "  I  'm  almighty  glad  he  don't 
know  you,"  he  said  dryly. 

The  next  day  they  began  to  take  testimony. 
Juniper,  the  one  person  who  had  been  in  the  court- 
room at  the  time  of  the  assassination,  could  not  be 
called  at  once,  as  he  was  still  hi  the  hospital,  but  he 
had  made  a  deposition  that  he  did  not  know  who  fired 
the  shots,  that  his  back  was  turned  and  that  when  he 
heard  the  reports  he  ran.  This  impossible  statement 
could  not  be  shaken  even  by  threats.  Later,  he  would 
go  on  the  stand,  but  Judge  Hollis  had  given  up  hope 
of  the  truth ;  he  believed,  at  heart,  that  Jumper  was 
crazed  with  fright.  Had  he  been  hired  to  fire  the 
shots?  The  judge  could  not  believe  it,  for  he  felt 
tolerably  certain  that  Juniper  would  have  hit  nothing. 

The  general  belief  outside,  however,  was  that  Caleb 
had  used  his  opportunity  well  and  threatened  or  bribed 
the  negro  into  making  his  remarkable  affidavit.  In 
fact,  Caleb  was  himself  profoundly  puzzled,  yet  the 
testimony  of  Eaton,  given  clearly  and  apparently  dis- 
passionately, was  damaging.  He  had  been  in  Colonel 
Goad's  office,  he  was  coming  along  the  upper  corridor, 
heard  the  shots  and  ran  to  the  court-room,  reaching 
the  door  immediately  before  Sergeant  O'More  of  the 
police;  both  men  met  Caleb  Trench  coming  out  of 
the  room,  and  on  the  floor,  by  the  window,  was 
the  revolver.  No  one  else  was  hi  sight.  Juniper's 
flight  had  been  made  at  the  first  shot,  and  seven  min- 


214  CALEB  TRENCH 

utes  only  had  elapsed  before  any  one  could  reach  the 
court-room.  Caleb  Trench  had  been  seen  to  enter  the 
building  at  twenty-five  minutes  to  one  o'clock,  and 
his  time  up  to  the  assassination  was  unaccounted  for. 
He  said  that  he  had  been  in  the  basement  of  the  build- 
ing, but  his  statement  did  not  give  any  legitimate 
reason  for  the  length  of  time  between  his  entrance 
and  his  appearance  hi  the  court-room.  It  took,  in 
reality,  just  two  minutes  to  reach  the  court-room 
from  the  lower  door  by  the  staircase.  Trench  made 
no  explanation  of  the  use  of  that  twenty-five  minutes, 
even  to  his  counsel.  Judge  Hollis  stormed  and  grew 
angry,  but  Caleb  pointed  out  the  fact  that  the  pistol 
was  not  his,  and  he  could  prove  it;  this  made  the 
judge's  language  absolutely  profane.  The  obstinacy 
of  the  prisoner  resulted  in  a  distinct  collapse  at  that 
point  in  the  trial ;  it  was  evident  that  the  time  must 
be  accounted  for.  since  the  circumstantial  evidence 
was  strong. 

The  public  prosecutor,  Colonel  Goad,  was  pressing 
in,  scoring  point  by  point,  and  Judge  Hollis  fought 
and  sparred  and  gave  way,  inwardly  swearing  because 
he  had  to  do  so.  Meanwhile,  the  prisoner  was  serene ; 
he  took  notes  and  tried  to  help  his  counsel,  but  he 
showed  no  signs  of  trepidation  and  he  would  not 
admit  any  use  for  that  time  in  the  basement  of  the 
court-house.  Judge  Hollis  could  not,  therefore,  put 
him  on  the  stand  on  his  own  behalf,  and  the  old  man 
grew  purple  with  wrath. 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Trench,"  he  said,  with  bitter  for- 


CALEB  TRENCH  215 

mality,  "  what  damned  crotchet  have  you  got  in  your 
head?  What  fool  thing  were  you  doing?  Working  a 
penny-in-the-slot  machine  in  the  basement?  Out 
with  it,  or  I  walk  out  of  this  case." 

"And  leave  me  to  the  tender  mercies  of  my  ene- 
mies," said  Caleb  quietly;  "no,  Judge,  not  yet!  I 
can't  see  my  way  clear  to  tell  you." 

"Then  I  'm  darned  if  I  see  mine  to  defend  you !" 
snapped  the  judge. 

They  were  in  the  prisoner's  cell  at  the  jail,  and 
Caleb  got  up  and  went  to  the  little  barred  window 
which  overlooked  the  dreary  courtyard  where  the 
prisoners  were  exercising.  After  a  moment,  when  he 
seemed  to  mechanically  count  the  blades  of  grass  be- 
tween the  flagstones,  he  turned.  The  judge  was 
watching  him,  his  hat  on  like  a  snuffer,  as  usual,  and 
his  hands  in  pockets. 

"Judge  Hollis,"  said  Caleb  quietly,  "if  I  told  you 
where  I  was,  another  witness  would  have  to  be  called, 
and  neither  you  nor  I  would  wish  to  call  that  witness." 

The  judge  looked  at  him  steadily;  Caleb  returned 
the  look  as  steadily,  and  there  was  a  heavy  silence. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry ! "  said  the  judge  at  last,  "  I 
believe  you  'd  let  'em  hang  you  rather  than  give  in  a 
hair's  breadth." 

Then  Caleb  smiled  his  rare  sweet  smile. 

The  second  long  week  of  the  trial  wore  to  its  close, 
and  the  web  of  circumstantial  evidence  was  clinging 
fast  about  the  prisoner.  Witnesses  had  testified  to 
his  character  and  against  it.  The  name  of  Jean  Bart- 


216  CALEB  TRENCH 

lett  ran  around  the  court,  and  some  men  testified  to 
a  belief  that  Caleb  was  the  father  of  the  child  he  had 
befriended.  Judge  Hollis  did  not  attempt  to  have 
the  testimony  ruled  out ;  he  let  it  go  in,  sitting  back 
with  folded  arms  and  a  grim  smile.  He  cross- 
examined  Jacob  Eaton  twice,  but  made  nothing  of  it. 
Jacob  was  an  excellent  witness,  and  he  showed  no 
passion,  even  when  witnesses  described  the  duel  and 
his  conduct  to  show  his  motive  in  attacking  Trench. 

Sunday  night  Judge  Hollis  received  a  telephone 
message  from  Colonel  Royall,  and,  after  his  early 
supper,  the  judge  ordered  around  his  rockaway  and 
drove  over,  with  Lysander  beside  him  to  hold  the 
reins.  He  found  Mrs.  Eaton  in  the  drawing-room  with 
Diana,  and  was  coldly  received  by  Jacob's  mother; 
she  resented  any  attempt  to  line  up  forces  against  her 
son,  and  she  regarded  the  defender  of  Caleb  Trench  as 
an  enemy  to  society.  The  judge  bowed  before  her 
grimly. 

"I  thought  you  were  in  the  city,  madam,"  he 
remarked. 

Mrs.  Eaton  threw  up  her  hands.  "With  that  mob 
loose,  and  the  soldiers?  My  dear  Judge !  I  would  n't 
stay  for  a  million,  and  I  'm  a  poor  woman.  Good 
gracious,  think  of  it !  It 's  just  as  I  've  always  said, 
—  you  go  on  letting  in  the  shiploads  of  anarchists  and 
we  '11  all  be  murdered  in  our  beds." 

"Madam,"  said  the  judge  grimly,  "the  only  thing 
I  ever  let  in  is  the  cat.  Sarah  and  the  niggers  look 
after  the  front  door." 


CALEB  TRENCH  217 

Mrs.  Eaton  raised  her  eyebrows.  "I  can't  under- 
stand you,"  she  said,  with  distant  politeness;  "I 
refer  to  immigration." 

"And  I  refer  to  immoderation,  madam,"  snapped 
the  judge. 

Diana  intervened.  "Pa  wants  you,"  she  said 
sweetly,  and  went  with  him  across  the  hall  to  the 
library.  At  the  door  she  paused.  "Judge  Hollis," 
she  said,  "  does  the  trial  hinge  on  the  question  of  the 
time  in  the  basement  —  before  —  before  Mr.  Trench 
went  up-stairs?" 

The  judge  scowled.  "It  does,"  said  he  flatly,  "and 
Caleb 's  a  fool." 

Diana  smiled  faintly;  she  looked  unusually  lovely 
and  very  grave.  "Judge,"  she  said,  "no  matter  what 
pa  says,  I  '11  do  it  all ;  he  's  demurred,"  and  with  this 
enigmatical  sentence  she  thrust  the  judge  inside  the 
door  and  closed  it. 

Monday  the  court  met  at  noon  and  the  throng  was 
greater  than  ever.  Report  had  it  that  the  case  was 
going  to  the  jury,  and  men  had  slept  on  benches  in 
the  square.  The  morning  papers  reprinted  Caleb's 
famous  speech  at  Cresset's  and  the  account  of  the 
stand  he  had  made  in  the  face  of  the  would-be  lynch- 
ing party.  Fed  with  this  fuel,  party  feeling  ran  high ; 
besides,  the  Yarnall  faction  was  deeply  stirred.  It 
seemed  as  if  this  change  in  events  had  swept  away 
the  chance  of  punishment  for  Jacob  Eaton,  who  was 
figuring  largely  and  conspicuously  in  this  trial  and 
who  had  caught  the  public  eye.  Moreover,  he  had 


218  CALEB  TRENCH 

been  industrious  in  circulating  the  scandalous  tale  of 
Jean  Bartlett.  The  court-room  buzzed.  Three  times 
Judge  Ladd  rapped  for  order  and  finally  threatened 
to  clear  the  court-room.  This  was  the  day  that  the 
crowd  in  the  windows  shut  off  all  view  for  those  in 
the  tree  of  heaven.  It  was  a  hot  autumn  day  and  the 
air  was  heavy.  Stout  men  like  Judge  Hollis  looked 
purple,  and  even  Caleb  flushed  under  the  strain. 

Colonel  Goad  cross-examined  two  witnesses  in  a 
lengthy  fashion  that  threatened  to  exhaust  even  the 
patience  of  the  court,  and  Judge  Hollis  was  on  his 
feet  every  few  minutes  with  objections.  The  judge 
was  out  of  temper,  nervous  and  snappy,  yet  triumph 
glowed  in  his  eyes,  for  he  scented  battle  and  victory 
at  last. 

The  dreary  day  wore  to  an  uneventful  end,  and 
there  was  almost  a  sob  of  disappointment  in  the 
packed  and  sweltering  mass  of  humanity.  One 
woman  fainted  and  the  bailiffs  had  to  bring  ice-water. 
Outside,  the  rifles  rattled  as  the  guards  changed. 

At  five  o'clock,  just  before  the  belated  adjourn- 
ment hour,  Judge  Hollis  rose  and  asked  the  clerk  to 
call  a  new  witness  for  the  defense.  There  was  a  lan- 
guid stir  of  interest,  the  judge  looked  irate,  the  jurors 
shifted  wearily  in  their  chairs.  The  clerk  called  the 
witness. 

"  Diana  Royall." 

The  sensation  was  immense;  the  court-room 
hummed,  the  weariest  juror  turned  and  looked  down 
the  crowded  room.  Very  slowly  a  way  was  made  to 


CALEB  TRENCH 

the  witness-stand,  and  a  tall  slight  figure  in  white, 
with  a  broad  straw  hat  and  a  light  veil,  came  quietly 
forward. 

Caleb  Trench  turned  deadly  white. 

In  a  stillness  so  intense  that  every  man  seemed  to 
hear  only  his  own  heart  beat,  the  clerk  administered 
the  oath  and  the  new  witness  went  on  the  stand. 


XXIV 

JUDGE  HOLLIS,  standing  before  the  witness- 
stand,  looked  at  Diana  with  fatherly  eyes;  his 
manner  lost  its  brusqueness  and  became  that 
of  the  old-fashioned  gentleman  of  gallantry.  Diana 
herself  looked  across  the  court-room  with  a  composure 
and  dignity  of  pose  that  became  her.  Every  eye  was 
riveted  upon  her.  For  days  the  papers  had  reeked 
with  the  story  of  Jean  Bartlett  and  her  child,  yet 
here  —  on  the  stand  for  the  prisoner  —  was  one  of  the 
first  young  ladies  in  the  State. 

Judge  Hollis  had  been  taking  notes,  and  he  closed 
his  notebook  on  his  finger  and  took  off  his  gold- 
rimmed  spectacles. 

"Where  were  you  on  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday, 
August  eighteenth,  about  one  o'clock,  Miss  Diana?" 

Diana  answered  at  once,  and  in  a  clear  low  voice. 
"  In  this  building,  Judge,  in  a  small  room  on  the  lower 
floor." 

"A  small  room  on  the  lower  floor?  Let  us  see,  Miss 
Diana,"  —  the  judge  tapped  his  book  with  his  spec- 
tacles, —  "the  room  to  the  right,  was  it,  at  the  end 
of  the  west  corridor?" 

Diana  explained  the  position  of  the  room  and  the 
vicinity  of  the  staircase. 


CALEB  TRENCH  221 

"Ah,"  said  the  old  lawyer,  with  the  air  of  having 
made  a  discovery,  "to  be  sure;  it 's  the  room  we  call 
'  the  cage '  —  on  the  basement  floor.  Rather  a  dreary 
place  to  wait,  Miss  Diana ;  how  long  were  you  there?" 

"I  am  not  sure,"  she  replied,  coloring  suddenly, 
"but  certainly  an  hour.  It  was  a  little  after  twelve 
when  we  reached  the  building,  and  I  heard  the  clock 
strike  one  just  before  the  shots  were  fired." 

"  Ah !    You  heard  the  shots  ?  " 

"I  did." 

"How  many  did  you  hear,  Miss  Diana?"  the  judge 
asked  in  his  easiest,  most  conversational  tone. 

"Two,  Judge,  two  reports  in  quick  succession." 

"And  you  heard  only  two?"  his  tone  was  sharp, 
incisive;  it  cut  like  a  knife. 

Diana  threw  him  a  startled  glance,  but  she  was 
still  composed,  though  the  breathless  silence  in  the 
room  was  deeply  affecting. 

"I  heard  but  two,"  she  said  firmly. 

"How  soon  after  one  o'clock?"  he  demanded,  his 
bony  forefinger  following  her  testimony,  as  it  seemed, 
across  the  cover  of  the  book  he  held. 

"The  clock  in  the  hall  had  just  struck."  Diana 
was  holding  every  instinct,  every  thought,  in  hand. 
Her  eyes  never  left  his  rugged  face,  yet,  all  the  while, 
she  was  conscious  of  the  court-room,  growing  dim  in 
the  early  twilight,  of  the  rows  of  upturned  eager 
faces,  but  more  conscious  still  of  the  pale  face  of 
Caleb  Trench. 

Judge  Hollis  made  some  notes,  then  he  looked  up 


222  CALEB  TRENCH 

suddenly.  "Miss  Royall,"  he  said  formally,  "do  you 
know  the  prisoner  at  the  bar?" 

Diana  drew  a  deep  breath;  she  was  aware  of  a 
hundred  pairs  of  curious  eyes.  The  awful  silence  of 
the  room  seemed  to  leap  upon  her  and  bear  her  down. 
She  turned  her  head  with  an  effort  and  met  Caleb's 
eyes.  For  a  single  second  they  looked  at  each  other, 
with  the  shock  of  mutual  feeling,  then  she  answered, 
and  her  low  voice  reached  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
crowded  room. 

"I  do." 

Judge  Hollis  waited  an  instant ;  he  let  every  word 
she  said  have  its  full  effect  and  weight.  "Did  you 
see  him  upon  the  morning  of  the  assassination?" 

"I  did." 

"In  the  basement  of  the  court-house?" 

"In  the  room  which  you  call  the  cage,  Judge 
Hollis,"  she  replied  quietly,  though  she  colored  again ; 
"I  saw  him  there  twice." 

"At  what  time?"  the  old  man's  harsh  voice  rang, 
like  the  blow  of  a  sledge-hammer. 

"He  was  with  me  in  that  room  when  the  clock 
struck  one,  and  we  both  heard  the  shots  fired."  Diana 
spoke  gently,  but  her  voice  thrilled;  she  knew  that, 
in  the  face  of  the  scurrilous  attacks  upon  Caleb 
Trench,  her  position  was  at  once  courageous  and 
perilous. 

"He  was  in  the  room  in  the  basement  with  you 
then,  when  Yarnall  was  shot,"  said  Judge  Hollis,  his 
eyes  kindling  with  triumph. 


CALEB  TRENCH  223 

"He  was." 

She  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words,  and  Caleb 
Trench's  white  face  had  flushed  deeply,  when  some  one 
cheered.  In  an  instant  there  was  a  wave  of  applause. 
It  swept  through  the  room,  it  reached  the  corridors 
and  descended  the  stairs ;  the  sentries  heard  it  in  the 
quadrangle.  Men  stood  up  on  the  rear  benches  and 
shouted.  Then  Judge  Ladd  enforced  silence;  he 
even  threatened  to  clear  the  court  by  force  and  lock 
the  doors,  and  like  a  wave  of  the  sea,  the  wild  enthu- 
siasm receded,  only  to  gain  force  and  roll  back  at  the 
first  opportunity. 

Meanwhile  Colonel  Royall  sat  behind  the  witness- 
stand,  leaning  on  his  cane,  his  head  bowed  and  his 
fine  aristocratic  face  as  bloodless  as  a  piece  of  paper. 
There  were  many  who  pointed  at  him  and  whispered, 
and  the  whisper  traveled.  "Was  he  thinking  of  his 
girl's  mother?"  That  foul  hag,  the  world,  has  a 
heart  that  treasures  scandal,  and  the  lips  of 
malice ! 

The  court-room  seethed  with  excitement,  but 
silence  reigned  again;  the  lights  were  flaring  now  on 
the  judge's  desk  and  on  the  reporters'  table ;  the  busy 
scratch  of  the  stenographers'  pens  was  audible. 
Diana  was  still  on  the  stand,  and  she  explained  how 
Caleb  Trench  left  her  to  ascertain  the  results  of  the 
shots,  and  how  he  returned  and  got  her  father  and 
herself  into  their  carriage.  Her  testimony  was  simple 
and  direct,  and,  though  she  was  briefly  cross-exam- 
ined by  Colonel  Coad,  the  prosecuting  attorney,  she 


224  CALEB  TRENCH 

sustained  her  position  and  suffered  nothing  at  the 
hands  of  that  pompous  but  courteous  gentleman. 

When  Diana  rose  from  the  witness-stand  and 
walked  back  to  her  seat  between  her  father  and  Miss 
Sarah  Hollis,  there  was  another  ripple  of  the  wave  of 
applause,  but  it  was  quickly  suppressed.  She  leaned 
back  in  her  chair  and  clasped  her  hands  tightly  in  her 
lap,  struggling  with  herself,  for  she  was  conscious  of 
a  new  tumult  of  feeling  that  submerged  even  thought 
itself;  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  heart  beat,  not 
only  in  her  bosom,  but  in  every  quivering  limb.  Was 
it  possible,  she  asked  herself,  that  the  tumult  in  the 
court-room  had  frightened  her?  Or  the  fact  that  on 
her  word  alone  hung  a  man's  life?  No,  no,  not  alto- 
gether; in  that  moment,  when  their  eyes  met,  she 
had  seen  again  the  lonely  trail  and  heard  the  dull 
passion  in  the  man's  voice  when  he  told  her  that  he 
loved  her;  and  suddenly,  in  one  of  those  supreme 
moments  of  self-revelation,  she  knew  that  nothing 
mattered  to  her,  neither  his  humble  struggle,  his 
poverty,  the  accusation  against  him,  not  even  Jean 
Bartlett's  story,  nothing  —  nothing  counted  but  that 
one  primitive,  undeniable  fact  of  his  love  for  her. 
Before  it  she  felt  suddenly  defenseless,  yet  another 
self  was  awakening  to  vigilance  in  her  heart  and 
summoning  her  back  to  the  battle  of  resistance.  She 
had  testified  for  him,  and  every  face  in  the  court- 
room turned  toward  her,  strained  to  watch  her,  told 
her  how  great  had  been  the  weight  of  her  testimony. 
She  had  deceived  herself  with  the  thought  that  only 


CALEB  TRENCH  225 

her  duty  brought  her,  her  honor,  her  determination 
that  justice  should  be  done.  Yet  she  knew  now  that 
it  was  not  that,  but  something  mightier,  deeper,  more 
unconquerable,  —  something  that,  to  her  shame,  re- 
fused even  to  consider  the  charges  against  him,  and, 
instead,  drew  her  to  him  with  a  force  so  irresistible 
that  she  trembled.  She  fought  it  back  and  struggled, 
resisted  and  tried  to  fix  her  attention  on  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  court.  But  what  was  there  in  the  man? 
What  power  that  had  won  its  way  even  with  men  and 
made  him  in  so  short  a  time  a  leader,  and  now  —  was 
it  casting  its  spell  over  her? 

Then  she  heard  her  father  testifying  briefly  to  the 
time  that  he  left  her,  to  his  own  visit  to  Judge  Ladd's 
room,  the  announcement  of  the  shooting,  and  his 
return  to  Diana.  It  was  in  the  order  of  sustaining 
her  testimony,  but  it  was  unnecessary,  for  she  had 
already  established  an  alibi  for  Trench. 

Then  followed  a  tilt  between  counsel  on  the  admis- 
sion of  testimony  from  Dr.  Cheyney  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  defendant.  Colonel  Goad  resisted,  fighting 
point  by  point.  Judge  Hollis  was  determined  and 
vindictive;  he  even  lost  his  temper  and  quarreled 
with  the  Commonwealth  attorney,  and  would,  doubt- 
less, have  become  profane  if  the  court  had  not  inter- 
vened and  sustained  him.  In  that  moment  the  old 
lawyer  triumphed  openly,  his  eyes  flashing,  his  face 
nearly  purple  with  excitement.  But  the  tilt  was  not 
over  when  the  doctor  was  put  on  the  stand.  It  be- 
came evident,  hi  a  moment,  that  Judge  Hollis  was 

15 


226  CALEB  TRENCH 

bent  on  the  story  of  Jean  Bartlett,  and  Colonel  Coad 
got  to  his  feet  and  objected.  Again  silence  reigned 
in  the  court-room,  and  they  heard  the  tree  of  heaven 
creak  under  its  weight  of  human  fruit.  Inch  by  inch 
Colonel  Coad  fought  and  Judge  Hollis  won.  Testi- 
mony had  been  admitted  to  damage  the  character 
of  the  prisoner;  he  was  offering  this  in .sur-rebuttal. 
It  was  half-past  six  when  Colonel  Coad  gave  up  and 
the  old  judge  put  on  his  spectacles  and  stared  into 
the  spectacled  eyes  of  the  old  doctor.  The  two  eager, 
lined  old  faces  were  as  wonderful  in  their  shrewd 
watchfulness  as  two  faces  from  the  brush  of  Rem- 
brandt. The  dingy,  green-shaded  lights  flickered  on 
them,  and  the  suppressed  excitement  of  the  room 
thrilled  about  them,  until  the  very  atmosphere 
seemed  charged. 

"You  have  heard  the  prisoner  charged  with  the 
ruin  of  Jean  Bartlett,  Dr.  Cheyney?"  asked  the  judge. 

"I  have,  sir." 

"You  knew  Jean  Bartlett  before  and  after  the 
birth  of  her  child;  what  was  her  mental  condition  at 
those  times?" 

"  Before  the  birth  of  her  child  she  was  sane ;  after- 
wards she  was  ill  a  long  time  and  never  fully  recovered 
from  the  fever  and  delirium." 

"Did  she  make  any  statement  to  you  before  the 
birth  of  the  child?" 

Colonel  Coad  objected;  Judge  Hollis  said  that  he 
intended  to  show  that  the  prisoner  was  not  the  father 
of  the  child.  Objection  not  sustained.  The  judge 


CALEB  TRENCH  227 

looked  sideways  at  Colonel  Goad  and  coughed;  the 
colonel  sat  down.  The  judge  repeated  his  question. 

"  She  did,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney  slowly,  leaning  a  little 
forward  and  looking  intently  at  the  old  lawyer.  A 
breathless  pause  ensued. 

"  Please  state  to  the  court  the  condition  and  nature 
of  that  statement."  Judge  Hollis'  tone  was  dry,  rasp- 
ing, unemotional. 

Dr.  Cheyney  took  off  his  spectacles,  wiped  them 
and  put  them  in  his  pocket.  "  She  was  of  sound  mind 
and  she  stated  her  case  to  me,  and  I  made  her  repeat 
it  and  write  it  down,  because "  —  the  old  doctor's 
face  twisted  a  little  into  a  whimsical  grimace,  —  "I 
thought  likely  the  child  might  be  handed  around 
considerable." 

A  titter  ran  through  the  room.  Judge  Ladd  rapped 
for  order.  Dr.  Cheyney  unfolded  a  slip  of  paper  and 
smoothed  it  out. 

"If  it  please  the  court,"  he  said  quietly,  "I  have 
been  very  reluctant  to  produce  this  evidence." 

Colonel  Goad  rose.  "Does  it  incriminate  any  per- 
son, or  persons,  not  on  trial  before  this  court?"  he 
asked. 

"It  does." 

"Then,  your  Honor,  I  object  I"  shouted  the  in- 
dignant Goad. 

Judge  Hollis  turned  to  speak. 

"The  objection  is  sustained,"  said  the  court. 

The  old  lawyer  for  the  defense  turned  purple  again, 
and  flashed  a  furious  glance  at  Dr,  Cheyney.  The 


228  CALEB  TRENCH 

doctor  smiled,  his  face  puckering.  The  tense  excite- 
ment and  curiosity  in  the  room  found  utterance  in 
a  sigh  of  disappointment.  Judge  Hollis  slammed 
his  papers  on  his  desk  and  turned  the  witness  over  to 
the  prosecution.  Colonel  Goad  did  not  press  the  ex- 
amination, and  the  old  doctor  went  calmly  back  to 
his  seat  with  his  secret  untold. 

Hollis  turned  to  the  court.  "  Your  Honor,  I  waive 
the  right  to  sum  up,  and  rest  the  case  for  the 
defense." 

An  hour  later  Colonel  Coad  had  closed  for  the  prose- 
cution and  Judge  Ladd  charged  the  jury. 

There  had  been  no  recess,  and  the  crowded  room 
was  packed  to  suffocation.  Everywhere  were  faces, 
white,  haggard,  intent  with  excitement,  and  the 
labored  breathing  of  men  who  hung  upon  a  word.  A 
thunderstorm  was  coming  on,  and  now  and  then  a 
vivid  flash  flooded  the  room  with  light.  At  half-past 
eight  Judge  Ladd  gave  the  case  to  the  jury.  The 
foreman  rose  and  stated  that  the  jury  had  reached  a 
verdict  without  leaving  the  box. 

There  was  an  intense  moment,  and  then  Judge  Ladd 
spoke  slowly. 

"Have  you  agreed  upon  a  verdict?" 

"We  have,  your  Honor." 

"Is  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  guilty,  or  not  guilty,  as 
charged  in  the  indictment?" 

"Not  guilty." 

The  wave  of  passion  and  excitement  broke,  the 
court-room  rose  as  one  man ;  the  shout  was  heard  ten 


CALEB  TRENCH  229 

squares  away,  and  the  echo  reached  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  city.  The  bailiffs  fought  and  struggled 
to  keep  order,  for  men  would  have  carried  the  prisoner 
on  then*  shoulders.  He  was  the  only  one  unmoved. 
He  stood  like  a  rock  amid  the  surging  crowd,  and  it 
seemed  to  Diana  that  he  towered,  with  a  certain 
simplicity  and  strength  that  made  him  seem  at  once 
apart  from  other  men  and  above  them.  In  her  heart 
she  wondered  at  her  own  temerity,  when  she  had 
treated  him  with  discourtesy.  Here  was  a  primitive 
man,  and  the  primitive  strength,  the  righteous  force 
in  him,  held  other  men,  as  that  strange  gift  of  mag- 
netism that  wields  and  binds  and  moves  millions  till 
they  seem  but  one. 

She  turned  away,  holding  tightly  to  her  father's 
arm,  eager  to  escape,  and  begrudging  the  slow  and 
tortuous  passage  to  the  door.  Behind  her  and  before 
her,  on  every  hand,  from  lip  to  lip,  ran  the  prisoner's 
name. 

The  colonel  almost  lifted  Diana  from  the  crowd 
into  the  carriage.  Then  he  took  his  seat  beside  her 
and  closed  the  door;  slowly  the  horses  made  their 
way  through  the  throng  in  the  quadrangle.  It  was 
raining  hard,  and  the  wind  blew  the  moisture  across 
their  heated  faces. 

"By  gum!"  said  Colonel  Royall,  "they'll  make 
him  governor !  But  Jacob  Eaton  —  Jacob  Eaton ! " 

The  old  man  was  bewildered;  he  passed  his  hand 
over  his  face.  Diana  said  nothing ;  the  night  blurred 
itself  into  the  rain. 


XXV 

Ewas  long  past  midnight  when  Mrs.  Eaton  went 
iown-stairs  for  the  fourth  time  to  see  if  her  son 
xiad  returned  home. 

She  was  alone  with  the  servants  in  the  old  Eaton 
house,  which  was  three  miles  from  Broad  Acres,  and 
she  had  not  ventured  out  in  the  storm,  which  had  been 
raging  since  early  evening.  The  wind  shook  the  old 
house  at  intervals  with  the  moan  of  autumn  in  the 
gale,  yet  the  roll  of  thunder  recalled  midsummer. 
Once  she  had  looked  out  and,  in  a  blinding  flash,  saw 
the  old  cottonwoods  in  front  of  the  house  stripped 
naked  by  the  wind.  There  was  a  weird  aspect  to  the 
world  in  that  one  fierce  moment  of  illumination,  and 
the  tumult  of  sounds  without,  the  creaking  of  the  old 
house  within,  and  the  interminable  ticking  of  the 
clocks  recalled  to  her  shrinking  mind  a  memory  of 
that  other  night,  long  ago,  when  she  had  been  sum- 
moned home  from  Lexington,  to  find  her  husband's 
dead  body  in  the  long  west  room,  and  hear  the  whisper- 
ings of  the  terrified  servants  on  the  stairs.  She  knew 
that  even  now  the  negroes  were  locked  in  the  wing,  for 
they  believed  that  on  such  nights  Eaton  walked, 
demanding  the  blood  of  the  Yarnalls,  and  since 


CALEB  TRENCH  231 

Yarnall's  death,  violent  as  his  own,  they  had  shrieked 
at  shadows. 

Though  she  realized  the  folly  of  their  supersti- 
tions, poor  Jinny  Eaton,  alone  and  vaguely  terri- 
fied, shivered  too.  Once  she  caught  herself  looking 
over  her  shoulder,  and  at  last  she  cried  hysterically. 
The  wind,  sweeping  a  long  branch  against  the  window, 
rattled  the  pane,  and  she  started  up,  white  with  fright. 
In  a  sudden  panic  she  rang  for  her  maid,  but  no  one 
answered,  though  she  heard  the  blurred  sound  far  in 
the  distance;  a  glance  at  the  clock  told  her  it  was 
nearly  two.  There  was  no  light  except  in  the  hall 
and  the  library,  where  she  herself  had  turned  the 
electric  switch,  and  she  walked  through  all  the  other 
dim  rooms,  starting  at  a  shadow,  and  looking  over  her 
shoulder  when  the  floors  creaked  behind  her.  The 
house  was  much  more  richly  furnished  than  Broad 
Acres,  and  everywhere  she  was  surrounded  with  the 
luxuries  that  she  loved.  But  alone  there,  in  those 
desolate  hours  before  the  dawn,  poor  Jinny  found  no 
comfort  in  the  things  that  had  always  seemed  so 
comforting.  In  a  vague  way  at  first,  and  constantly 
resisting  even  her  own  convictions,  she  had  begun  to 
feel  a  doubt  of  Jacob,  —  Jacob,  who  had  been  almost 
omnipotent  to  her,  who  had  represented  all  her  hopes 
and  aspirations  for  years,  and  was,  in  her  own  eyes, 
the  achievement  of  her  life.  To  have  her  faith  in  him 
shaken  was  more  bitter  than  death.  And  where  was 
he?  A  premonition  of  evil  oppressed  her,  as  she  wan- 
dered from  place  to  place  in  restless  unhappiness. 


232  CALEB  TRENCH 

Earlier  in  the  night  she  had  tried  in  vain  to  reach  him 
over  the  telephone:  now  her  only  resource  was  to 
wait.  She  went  from  window  to  window,  peeping 
out,  her  face  drawn  and  haggard,  and  all  the  well- 
preserved  traces  of  her  former  beauty  lost  in  her 
pathetic  dishevelment.  She  watched  the  morning 
dawn  over  the  long  fields  that  smoked  with  moisture, 
and  she  saw  the  broken  limbs  of  the  trees  and  the 
dead  leaves  that  scurried  before  the  wind,  like  the 
shriveled  ghosts  of  summer.  Then,  just  as  she  had 
given  up  the  vigil,  and  sank  in  a  disconsolate  heap  in 
the  nearest  chair,  she  heard  his  latch-key  in  the  door, 
and  running  into  the  hall  fell  on  his  neck  in  a  fit  of 
hysterical  weeping. 

"Oh,  Jacob,"  she  sobbed,  "where  have  you  been?" 

"  Don't  be  silly ! "  he  said  crossly,  and  loosened  her 
arms  from  his  neck.  "  I  'm  dead  beat ;  where  's 
Davidson?  I  want  something." 

"The  servants  are  not  up  yet,"  his  mother  faltered. 
"  I  '11  get  you  some  whiskey  and  soda,  dear,  and  I  '11 
ring  up  Davidson.  I  've  been  up  all  night." 

Jacob  flung  himself  into  a  chair  and  sat  there  wait- 
ing for  her  to  bring  the  liquor  and  wait  on  him,  as 
she  had  waited  on  him  all  his  life.  But,  if  she  thought 
of  this  at  all,  it  was  only  with  an  alarmed  perception 
of  the  haggard  moodiness  of  his  expression.  She  saw 
that  he  had  been  drinking  heavily  already,  but  she 
dared  not  deny  him  more,  and,  in  a  way,  she  had 
faith  in  his  own  judgment  in  the  matter.  She  had 
never  known  him  to  drink  more  than  he  was  able  to 


CALEB  TRENCH  233 

bear,  and  she  did  not  know  that  Will  Broughton  said 
that  Trench  owed  his  life  to  Eaton's  tippling,  and 
steadier  nerves  and  a  firmer  hand  would  have  dealt 
certain  death.  She  came  back  at  last,  after  a  lengthy 
excursion  to  the  pantry,  and  brought  him  some  re- 
freshments, arranged  hastily  on  a  little  tray  by  hands 
so  unaccustomed  to  any  sick-room  service  that  they 
were  almost  awkward.  She  put  the  things  down  be- 
side him  on  the  table  and  fluttered  about,  eager  to 
help  him  and  almost  afraid  of  him,  as  she  was  in  his 
ungracious  moods.  But  her  desire  for  news,  the  cer- 
tainty that  he  could  settle  all  her  doubts,  lent  a 
pleasurable  thrill  of  excitement  to  her  trepidation. 
Her  news  from  the  city  had  been  vague,  and  the  an- 
nouncement of  Caleb's  acquittal  had  only  filtered  to 
her  over  a  belated  telephone  to  the  housekeeper,  but 
here  was  the  fountainhead  of  all  her  information. 

Meanwhile  Jacob  drank  the  liquor,  but  scarcely 
tasted  the  food,  and  his  lowering  expression  disfig- 
ured his  usually  smooth  good  looks.  He  leaned  back 
in  his  chair,  staring  absently  at  the  bottle,  and  saying 
nothing,  though  he  slowly  closed  and  unclosed  his 
hands,  a  trick  of  his  when  angry  or  deeply  distraught. 
His  mother,  seeing  the  gesture,  experienced  another 
throb  of  dismay ;  something  had  happened,  something 
which  struck  at  the  root  of  things,  but  what?  She 
fluttered  to  the  window  and  opening  the  shutter  let 
in  the  pale  gray  light  of  morning,  and  as  she  did  it 
she  heard  the  servants  stirring  in  the  wing.  At  last 
she  could  endure  suspense  no  longer. 


234  CALEB  TRENCH 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Jacob!"  she  cried,  "what  is 
the  matter?" 

He  gave  her  a  sidelong  look  from  under  heavy  lids 
and  seemed  to  restrain  an  impulse  to  speak  out.  "I 
suppose  you  know  that  rascal  is  acquitted?"  he  said 
curtly. 

"I  could  scarcely  believe  it !"  she  replied,  dropping 
into  the  chair  opposite  and  pushing  back  her  long  full 
sleeves  and  loosening  the  ribbons  at  her  throat,  as  if 
she  suddenly  felt  the  heat.  "It  seems  impossible  — 
after  your  evidence,  too,  and  Governor  Aylett's! 
That  jury  must  have  been  full  of  anarchists." 

"Full  of  asses!"  snapped  Jacob.  "I  fancy  that 
you  don't  know  that  Diana  Royall  got  up  on  the 
witness-stand  and  made  a  public  exhibition  of  her- 
self to  clear  him?" 

"Diana?"  Mrs.  Eaton  could  not  believe  her  ears. 

"Yes,  Diana,"  mocked  her  son,  "our  Diana.  She 
went  on  the  stand  and  created  a  sensation,  took  the 
court  by  storm  and  the  city.  Good  Lord!  Her 
name  's  in  every  club  in  the  place." 

"I  —  I  can't  believe  it ! "  gasped  his  mother;  "it 's 
incredible  —  Diana  Royall?" 

"Incredible?"  He  rose,  his  face  was  white  with 
fury.  "Is  it  incredible?  Do  you  remember  her 
mother?" 

Mrs.  Eaton  collapsed.  "Jacob!"  she  breathed, 
"don't !  It  makes  me  shiver  to  think  you  might  have 
married  her." 

"By  God,  I  would  to-day!"    he  cried,  unable  to 


CALEB  TRENCH  235 

restrain  himself,  "  if  only  to  break  her  spirit,  to  make 
her  pay  for  this!" 

"I  can't  see  what  she  knew,"  Mrs.  Eaton  protested, 
"she  —  a  young  girl  —  and  all  this  awful  scandal 
about  Jean  Bartlett  in  the  papers.  In  my  day,  a 
young  girl  would  have  been  ashamed  to  show  her  face 
in  the  court." 

"Well,  she  wasn't,"  said  Jacob  dryly;  "she  ap- 
peared and  told  the  court  that  at  the  hour  of  the 
shooting  she  was  alone  with  Caleb  Trench  in  the 
prisoners'  cage  I" 

"Merciful  heavens  I"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Eaton  faintly, 
"was  David  crazy  to  let  her  do  it?" 

"  He  's  an  old  fool ! "  said  Jacob  fiercely,  "  a  damned 
old  fool  I" 

Mrs.  Eaton  clasped  her  hands.  "  I  'm  only  too 
thankful,  Jacob,  that  you  never  married  her!"  she 
said  devoutly. 

"She  's  refused  me  twice,"  said  Jacob  grimly. 

His  mother  uttered  an  inarticulate  sound.  And  at 
that  instant  Davidson,  an  old  gray-headed  negro, 
appeared  and  Jacob  called  him.  "Tell  James  to 
pack  my  suit-case,"  he  said  sharply.  "I'm  going 
to  Lexington  this  morning  on  the  eight-forty." 

"Doctor  Cheyney  's  at  the  doah,  suh,"  said  David- 
son, "and  would  like  ter  see  yoV 

"What  does  that  old  fool  want,  I  wonder?"  Jacob 
remarked,  as  he  rose  to  follow  the  negro  into  the 
hall. 

"What  are  you  going  so  soon  for,  Jacob?"    his 


236  CALEB  TRENCH 

mother  asked  tremulously,  "and  can  you  —  the 
bail—  " 

"I  've  arranged  that,"  said  Jacob  shortly,  and  flung 
himself  out  of  the  room. 

Dr.  Cheyney  was  looking  out  from  under  the  cover 
of  his  buggy,  and  old  Henk  was  breathing  as  if  they 
had  ascended  the  hill  at  an  unusual  gait. 

"Morning,  Jacob,"  said  the  doctor  pleasantly,  "I 
stopped  by  to  leave  that  book  for  your  mother ;  Mrs. 
Broughton  asked  me  to  bring  it  when  I  passed  yes- 
terday and  I  clean  forgot  it." 

Jacob  took  the  volume  gingerly  and  looked  politely 
bored.  What  in  the  world  did  the  old  fool  mean  by 
bringing  books  before  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning? 

Dr.  Cheyney  gathered  up  the  reins;  conversation 
seemed  improbable,  but  he  noticed  that  Davidson 
had  gone  back  into  the  house.  They  were  quite 
alone  under  the  leaden  sky,  and  the  fresh  wind  blew 
moist  across  their  faces. 

"By  the  way,"  said  the  old  man  carelessly,  "Judge 
Hollis  has  been  with  Juniper  all  night  and  at  six  this 
morning  I  heard  he  had  a  confession." 

Jacob  looked  up  into  the  doctor's  eyes,  his  own 
narrowing.  "Ah,"  he  said,  "I  presume  Judge  Hollis 
makes  out  that  Juniper  did  the  shooting?" 

"Don't  know,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  slapping  the 
reins  on  Henk's  broad  back,  "heard  there  would  be 
an  arrest  to-day,"  and  he  drove  slowly  off,  the  old 
wheels  sinking  in  first  one  rut  and  then  another,  and 
jolting  the  carriage  from  side  to  side. 


CALEB  TRENCH  237 

Jacob  Eaton  stood  looking  after  it  a  minute,  then 
he  turned  and  went  into  the  house.  It  was  how 
seven  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

That  evening,  at  the  corresponding  hour,  Colonel 
Royall  and  Diana  were  dining  alone  at  Broad  Acres. 
The  fact  that  Diana  had  been  drawn  into  an  undesir- 
able publicity  through  her  unexpected  connection 
with  the  celebrated  case  troubled  Colonel  Royall  pro- 
foundly. He  was  an  old-fashioned  Southern  gen- 
tleman, and  believed  devoutly  in  sheltering  and 
treasuring  his  beautiful  daughter ;  every  instinct  had 
been  jarred  upon  by  the  mere  fact  of  her  appearance 
on  the  witness-stand,  and  the  circumstances,  too, 
which  made  it  practically  his  own  fault.  He  blamed 
himself  for  his  carelessness  in  ignorantly  leaving  her  in 
a  room  used  by  the  prisoners  and,  in  fact,  for  taking 
her  there  at  all.  Yet  he  fully  sympathized  with  her 
in  her  courage.  Behind  it  all,  however,  was  a  memory 
which  stung,  and  the  knowledge  that  an  old  scandal 
is  never  really  too  dead  to  rise,  like  a  phoenix,  from 
its  ashes. 

All  through  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  the 
colonel  had  been  unwell,  and  lately  Diana  had  watched 
him  with  deep  concern.  Dr.  Cheyney  pooh-poohed 
her  solicitude,  said  the  colonel  was  as  sound  as  a  boy 
of  ten,  and  only  advised  a  cheerful  atmosphere.  But 
Diana,  sitting  opposite  to  him  that  day  at  dinner, 
saw  how  white  and  drawn  his  face  was,  how  pinched 
his  lips,  how  absent  his  gentle  blue  eyes.  She  felt  a 
sudden  overwhelming  dread  and  found  it  difficult  to 


238  CALEB  TRENCH 

talk  and  laugh  lightly,  even  when  he  responded  with 
an  eagerness  that  was  an  almost  pathetic  attempt  at 
his  natural  manner. 

They  were  just  leaving  the  dining-room  when  Judge 
Hollis  was  announced,  and  Diana  was  almost  glad, 
even  of  this  interruption,  though  she  was  conscious  of 
a  sharp  dread  that  they  were  to  hear  more  of  the  trial. 
A  glance  at  the  judge's  face  as  he  stalked  into  the 
room  confirmed  this  impression;  he  was  no  longer 
wholly  triumphant,  his  rugged  jaw  was  locked,  and 
his  shaggy  brows  hung  low  over  his  keen  eyes.  He 
walked  into  the  center  of  the  room  as  usual  and 
banged  his  hat  down  on  the  table. 

"David,"  he  said  abruptly,  "how  deep  are  you  in 
with  Jacob  Eaton?" 

Colonel  Royall  leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  his 
hands  clasping  the  arms.  "Pretty  well  in,"  he  said 
simply,  "  unless  he  's  sold  out  my  shares  for  me.  I 
asked  it,  but  he  did  n't  do  it  last  week." 

"Oh,  Lordy !"  said  the  judge. 

Diana  went  around  the  table  and  put  her  hand  on 
her  father's  shoulder ;  her  young  figure,  drawn  to  its 
full  height,  seemed  to  stand  between  him  and  impend- 
ing misfortune. 

"Jumper  confessed  this  morning,"  said  Judge  Hollis 
harshly,  forcing  himself  to  his  unpleasant  task.  "  He 
was  hired  by  Jacob  Eaton  to  stand  in  the  window  of 
the  court-room  while  Jacob  fired  from  behind  him 
and  killed  Yarnall." 

Colonel  Royall  rose  and  stood,  white  as  ashes. 
"My  God!"  he  said. 


CALEB  TRENCH  239 

Diana  flung  one  arm  around  him.  Judge  Hollis 
stood  looking  at  them  a  moment,  then  he  cleared  his 
throat,  choked  and  went  on. 

"Caleb  Trench  to-day  gave  me  the  proofs  that 
Aaron  Todd  and  others  have  collected  in  regard  to 
the  Eaton  Investment  Company.  The  shares  are  not 
worth  the  paper  they  're  written  on,  the  company  is 
a  name,  a  bubble,  a  conspiracy.  Not  one  cent  will 
ever  be  recovered  by  the  stockholders.  Before  nine 
o'clock  this  morning  Jacob  Eaton  jumped  his  bail  and 
ran.  He  can't  be  found  —  he  —  " 

Diana  suddenly  stretched  out  a  white  arm  before 
her  father,  as  if  she  warded  off  a  blow. 

"Not  another  word,  Judge,"  she  said  sternly,  "not 
a  word  —  on  your  life ! " 

Judge  Hollis  uttered  an  exclamation  and  went  over 
to  the  colonel's  side.  "Royall,"  he  said,  "I'm  a 
brute  —  but  it 's  God's  truth." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  "  and  Jacob  is  of 
my  blood  —  I  feel  the  disgrace.  Hollis,  I  feel  the 
disgrace !"  and  he  sat  down  and  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands. 


XXVI 

TWO  mornings  later  Dr.  Cheyney  finished  his 
breakfast  in  abstracted  silence;  not  even 
Miss  Lucinda's  best  rice  griddle-cakes  calling 
forth  a  word  of  approval.  He  had  been  talking  over 
the  telephone  with  Diana  Roy  all.  He  finished  his 
perfunctory  examination  of  the  daily  paper,  which 
was  full  of  the  flight  of  Jacob  Eaton,  the  collapse  of 
the  Eaton  Investment  Company,  the  rum  of  many 
prominent  citizens,  and  the  illness  of  Mrs.  Eaton,  who 
had  been  sent  at  once  to  a  private  sanitarium  in  the 
city. 

The  absorbing  topic  of  Eaton  had  almost  swallowed 
up  the  hitherto  absorbing  topic  of  Caleb  Trench, 
though  Caleb  once  more  loomed  up,  directing  the 
forces  of  the  opposition. 

The  doctor  folded  the  paper  viciously  and  put  it  in 
his  pocket,  then  he  went  out  and  climbed  into  his  old 
buggy;  he  remembered  quite  distinctly  that  other 
morning  when  he  had  climbed  into  it  at  six  o'clock 
to  drive  past  the  Batons  at  a  convenient  hour.  It 
might  be  said  that  the  old  man  was  so  hardened  in 
kindly  iniquity  that  his  conscience  never  suffered  a 
single  twinge.  He  and  old  Henk  traveled  more  slowly 
up  the  hill,  however,  than  on  that  previous  occasion. 


CALEB  TRENCH  241 

As  he  approached  Broad  Acres  he  was  struck  with  the 
dreary  aspect  of  the  autumn,  and  noticed  that  even 
the  house  itself  looked  less  cheerful.  He  had  seen 
Colonel  Royall's  name  on  every  quotation  of  losses 
in  the  Eaton  Company,  and  he  drew  his  own 
conclusions. 

At  the  door  Diana  met  him.    She  was  very  pale. 

"Dear  Dr.  Cheyney,"  she  said,  holding  out  both 
hands,  "it 's  a  relief  to  see  you !  I  could  n't  tell  you 
over  the  'phone  —  but  —  "  She  stopped,  her  lips 
trembled. 

"What  is  it,  Diana?"  the  old  man  asked  gently. 

"You  know  the  Shut  Room?"  She  looked  up 
imploringly. 

The  silence  of  the  house  behind  her  seemed  impen- 
etrable; the  long  hall  was  vacant. 

"I  know,"  said  the  doctor,  and  Diana  understood 
that  he  knew  even  more  than  she  did. 

"He 's  been  sitting  there  alone;  he  will  not  let  me 
stay  with  him,"  she  explained. 

Dr.  Cheyney  stood  a  moment  in  some  doubt,  his 
hand  at  his  chin  in  a  familiar  attitude  of  thought. 
His  gospel  refused  to  intrude  into  the  confidence  of 
any  one,  but  there  were  cases  where  it  might  be  an 
absolute  necessity  to  interfere;  the  question  which 
confronted  him  was  whether  or  not  this  was  one  of 
these  rare  instances. 

"How  long  has  it  been?"  he  asked  finally. 

"Two  whole  days,"  replied  Diana,  "and  he  has 
scarcely  eaten  a  mouthful.  This  morning  he  took 

16 


242  CALEB  TRENCH 

only  one  cup  of  coffee ;  he  looks  like  death.  And  you 
know  how  it  is,  —  that  room  always  affects  him  so,  he 
never  seems  himself  after  he  has  been  there.  Some- 
times," she  added  passionately,  "  sometimes  —  I  wish 
I  could  wall  it  up!" 

"  I  wish  you  could ! "  said  Dr.  Cheyney  devoutly. 

"He  sits  there  and  looks  out  of  the  window;  and 
twice  he  has  forbidden  me  to  come  there,"  Diana 
went  on.  "What  can  I  do?  It  —  it  breaks  my  heart 
to  see  him  so,  and  I  Jm  sure  my  mother  would  not  wish 
it,  but  he  will  not  listen  to  that." 

The  old  doctor's  lips  came  together  in  a  sharp  line ; 
without  another  word  he  turned  and  went  up  the 
stairs,  reluctance  in  his  step.  At  the  landing  was  a 
stained  glass  window,  the  work  of  a  famous  European 
artist,  and  the  doctor  glanced  at  it  with  a  certain 
weariness;  personally  he  preferred  plate  glass  and  a 
long  glimpse  of  level  fields.  He  had  reached  the  head 
of  the  second  broad  flight  now,  and  the  second  door 
to  the  left  of  the  wide  hall  was  ajar,  the  door  which 
was  usually  shut  and  locked.  Where  the  doctor  stood 
he  could  see  across  the  room,  for  one  of  the  window 
shutters  was  open,  and  it  looked  still  as  it  had  looked 
twenty-three  years  before,  when  Diana  was  born. 
There  were  the  same  soft  and  harmonious  coloring, 
the  same  rich  old  furniture,  the  deep-hued  Turkey 
rug  on  the  polished  floor,  the  spotless  ruffled  curtains. 
It  was  unchanged.  Life  may  change  a  thousand 
times  while  these  inanimate  things  remain  to  mock 
us  with  their  endurance.  The  doctor  moved  reso- 


CALEB  TRENCH  243 

lutely  forward  and  pushed  open  the  door.  Colonel 
Royall  was  sitting  erect  in  a  high-backed  chair  in 
the  center  of  the  room,  his  hands  clasping  the  arms, 
his  head  bowed,  and  his  kindly  blue  eyes  staring 
straight  before  him.  He  was  singularly  pale  and 
seemed  to  have  aged  twenty  years.  Dr.  Cheyney 
walked  slowly  across  the  room  and  laid  his  hand  on 
his  old  friend's  shoulder,  —  they  had  been  boys 
together. 

"Is  it  as  bad  as  that,  Davy?"  he  asked. 

Colonel  Royall  roused  himself  with  an  apparent 
effort,  and  looked  up  with  an  expression  in  which 
patient  endurance  and  great  grief  were  strongly 
mingled.  There  was  a  touch,  too,  of  dignity  and  re- 
luctance in  his  manner,  yet  if  he  resented  the  doctor's 
intrusion  he  was  too  courteous  to  show  it.  "  I  'm 
pretty  hard  hit,  William,"  he  said  simply,  "pretty 
hard  hit  all  around ;  there  's  not  much  more  to  be 
said  —  that  has  n't  been  said  already  on  the  street 
corners  and  in  the  market-place." 

His  wounded  pride  showed  through  his  manner 
without  destroying  his  delicate  restraint. 

The  doctor  drew  a  chair  beside  him  and  sat  down 
unasked.  His  sympathy  was  a  beautiful  thing  and 
needed  no  voicing;  it  reached  out  imperceptible 
feelers  and  made  him  intuitively  aware  of  the  raw 
cut  where  not  even  tenderness  may  lay  a  finger. 

"It 's  not  all  gone,  David?"  he  inquired. 

Colonel  Royall  ran  his  fingers  through  his  thick 
white  hair.  "Pretty  much  all,  William,"  he  said 


244  CALEB  TRENCH 

mechanically;  "the  place  here  is  free,  unmortgaged, 
I  mean,  and  I  reckon  I  can  hold  the  property  in  Vir- 
ginia, but  the  rest  —  "  He  raised  his  hands  with  a 
significant  and  pathetic  gesture;  he  had  fine  old 
hands,  and  they  had  saved  and  directed  from  his 
youth  up  until  now  —  to  this  end !  To  have  trusted 
too  deeply  to  an  unworthy  relative.  William  Cheyney 
leaned  back  hi  his  chair;  the  awful  actuality  of  the 
calamity  was  borne  in  upon  him,  and  he  remembered, 
even  at  that  moment,  his  feeling  of  confidence  in  the 
stability  of  Colonel  RoyalPs  fortune,  though,  some- 
times, he  had  doubted  the  colonel's  money  sense. 
There  was  sometimes,  too,  a  terrible  synchronism 
between  ruin  and  mental  collapse.  He  looked  keenly 
at  the  old  man  before  him,  who  seemed  suddenly 
shrunken  and  gray,  and  he  was  troubled  by  the  ab- 
sent expression  of  the  mild  blue  eyes ;  it  was  almost 
a  look  of  vacancy.  He  laid  his  hand  tenderly  on  the 
other's  arm. 

"Davy,  man,"  he  said,  "cheer  up;  there  are  worse 
things  than  financial  losses." 

The  colonel  recalled  himself  apparently  from  very 
distant  scenes  and  gazed  at  him  reproachfully.  "No 
one  can  know  that  better  than  I,"  he  said,  with  a 
touch  of  bitterness. 

The  doctor  stretched  out  his  hand  with  a  bowed 
head.  "Forgive  me,  David,"  he  said  simply. 

"There 's  nothing  to  forgive,"  replied  Colonel 
Royall.  "I  let  you  say  things,  William,  that  other 
men  could  not  say  to  me.  But  this  is  a  bitter  hour ; 


CALEB  TRENCH  245 

my  youth  was  not  idle,  I  never  knew  an  idle  day,  and 
I  laid  up  a  fortune  in  place  of  my  father's  competence ; 
I  wanted  to  spend  my  old  age  in  peace,  and  I  trusted 
my  affairs  to  a  rogue.  By  gum,  I  hate  to  call  my 
cousin's  son  a  rascal,  but  it  seems  he  is !  Not  half  the 
burden,  though,  lies  in  my  own  loss ;  it 's  the  thought 
of  all  these  poor  people  he  has  ruined.  Women  and 
girls  and  old  men  who  had  savings  —  all  gone  in  the 
Eaton  Investment  Company.  What  was  it  Caleb 
Trench  stated  about  that  company?  It  seems  as  if 
I  couldn't  understand  it  all,  I'm  —  I'm  dizzy!" 
The  colonel  touched  his  forehead  apprehensively. 

The  doctor  regarded  him  thoughtfully  over  his 
spectacles,  but  he  made  no  reservations.  "Well, 
there  is  n't  any  investment  company ;  that 's  about 
the  size  of  it,  David,"  he  said  reluctantly.  "People 
bought  their  shares  and  got  —  waste  paper.  They 
say  Jacob  used  lots  of  the  money  campaigning;  it 
is  n't  charged  that  he  wanted  it  for  himself." 

"I've  always  held  that  blood  was  thicker  than 
water,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  "  and  Jacob  is  a  thief  — 
a  thief,  sir ! "  he  added,  putting  aside  an  interruption 
from  the  doctor  with  a  wide  sweep  of  the  hand.  "  He  's 
robbed  hundreds  in  this  State  because  his  name,  his 
family,  stood  for  honesty,  business  reputation,  honor 
—  and  once  I  thought  him  fit  to  be  my  confidant !" 

"We're  all  deceived  sometimes,  David,"  said  the 
doctor  soothingly,  watching  him  with  his  keen  skillful 
look,  "we  're  not  omniscient;  if  we  were,  there  'd  be 
a  lot  more  folks  in  jail,  I  reckon.  I  would  n't  take  it 


246  CALEB  TRENCH 

to  heart;  Jacob  was  on  his  own  responsibility;  they 
can't  blame  you." 

"They  ought  to,"  declared  the  colonel  passionately. 
"I  Jm  an  old  man,  I  'm  his  relative;  it  was  my  busi- 
ness to  know  what  he  was  doing.  And  there  's  poor 
Jinny !  I  wanted  her  to  come  here,  so  did  Diana,  and 
you  packed  her  off  to  a  sanitarium." 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney  grimly;  "there  's 
no  need  of  having  three  lunatics  instead  of  one. 
Jinny's  nerves  were  about  wrecked,  she  needs  quiet, 
and  she  '11  come  out  well  enough ;  it 's  not  Jinny  I  'm 
worried  about.  You  let  Jacob  go,  don't  you  shoulder 
Jacob;  no  one  thinks  you  're  to  blame !" 

Colonel  Royall  let  his  clenched  hand  fall  on  the  arm 
of  his  chair.  "The  disgrace  of  it!"  he  said,  and  his 
lips  trembled.  "  I  've  had  my  share  of  disgrace, 
William!" 

Dr.  Cheyney  rose  abruptly  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow. Through  the  open  shutter  he  could  see,  from 
this  side  of  the  house,  the  distant  river,  and  near  at 
hand  was  a  tall  jingo  tree,  yellow  as  gold  with  autumn. 
The  other  trees  stood  half  naked  against  the  sky. 
Below  him  a  few  white  chickens  strayed  on  the  lawn 
unrebuked. 

"You  see  more  of  the  river  since  the  railroad  cut 
that  last  crossing,"  Colonel  Royall  remarked  irrele- 
vantly, "and  have  you  noticed  how  late  the  jingo 
stays  in  leaf?  It  was  so  the  year  that  — "  He 
stopped. 

The  doctor  turned  and  fixed  an  irate  eye  upon  him. 


CALEB  TRENCH  247 

Colonel  Royall  was  leaning  forward,  his  eyes  fixed 
absently  on  the  window,  yet  he  had  felt  instinctively 
the  doctor's  attitude.  "  It  may  be  folly,"  he  pleaded, 
as  if  in  extenuation,  "but  I  don't  want  the  place 
changed;  it  was  like  this  when  she  was  happy  here 
and  "  —  his  head  sank  lower  —  "  I  've  got  to  sell  it ! 
I  Ve  got  to  sell  it  —  oh,  my  God !" 

The  doctor  went  over  and  took  hold  of  him. 
"Davy!"  he  said  fiercely,  "Davy,  you  've  got  to  get 
out  of  here !  I  'm  glad  it  }B  to  be  sold ;  have  done 
with  it  1  You  've  got  to  eat  and  drink  and  sleep  or 
you'll  —  " 

He  stopped,  his  hands  still  on  his  old  friend's,  for 
Colonel  Royall  had  slipped  gently  into  unconscious- 
ness, and  lay  white  and  helpless  in  the  high-backed 
chair. 


XXVII 

IT  was  late  that  night  before  Dr.  Cheyney  drove 
away  from  Broad  Acres.  Colonel  Royall  had 
rallied  a  little,  and  the  doctor  and  the  servants 
had  put  him  to  bed,  not  in  the  Shut  Room,  but  in  his 
own  old  four-poster  that  had  belonged  to  his  mother. 

Before  the  doctor  went  away  he  had  sent  for  a 
trained  nurse  and  received  and  answered  telegrams 
for  Diana,  who  would  not  leave  her  father.  At  half- 
past  ten  the  old  doctor  drove  up  to  his  own  door, 
overtaxed  and  weary.  As  he  climbed  down  from  his 
old  buggy  his  quick  eye  detected  a  brighter  light  than 
usual  in  his  study  window,  and  Miss  Lucinda  Colfax 
met  him  at  the  door. 

"There  's  been  a  lady  waiting  to  see  you  for  two 
hours,"  she  whispered,  pointing  mysteriously  at  the 
study  door. 

The  doctor  sighed  as  he  slipped  off  his  overcoat.  It 
was  some  belated  patient,  of  course,  and  a  stranger, 
or  Miss  Lucinda  would  have  named  her.  He  looked 
pale  and  worn,  and  his  white  head  was  bowed  a  little 
with  care,  and  the  thought  of  old  David,  whom  he 
loved,  as  he  opened  the  study  door  and  came  into  the 
circle  of  light  from  the  student's  lamp  on  the  table. 


CALEB  TRENCH  249 

A  fire  burned  on  the  hearth,  and  a  woman  sat  in  the 
great  old-fashioned  winged  chair  before  it.  As  he 
entered  she  rose  and  stood  facing  him.  There  was  a 
certain  grace  and  ease  hi  the  tall  figure  and  the  black 
gown,  but  she  wore  a  thick  veil  covering  both  her 
large  hat  and  her  face  and  throat.  She  made  a  move- 
ment, an  involuntary  one,  it  seemed,  as  the  old  man 
came  toward  her,  and  she  saw  the  pallor  and  age  in 
his  face,  a  face  which  was  full  of  a  rare  sweetness  and 
strength.  But,  whatever  her  first  impulse  was,  the 
sight  of  him  seemed  to  arrest  it,  to  turn  it  aside,  and 
she  drew  back,  laying  her  hand  on  the  high  chair  and 
saying  nothing. 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  had  to  wait  so  long,  madam," 
Dr.  Cheyney  said,  "but  I  was  with  a  very  sick  man. 
What  can  I  do  for  you?  Will  you  be  seated?"  he 
added,  drawing  forward  another  chair. 

"Thank  you,"  she  replied  in  a  low  voice,  sinking 
into  the  chair  by  which  she  stood.  "I  wanted  to 
speak  to  you  —  about  —  about  —  some  old  friends." 

"Ah?"  The  doctor  looked  curiously  at  the  veil. 
He  could  not  distinguish  a  feature  under  it,  but  he 
seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  feverish  brightness  of  her 
eyes. 

"I  —  I  used  to  know  people  here,"  she  began  and 
stopped,  hesitating. 

He  did  not  offer  to  help  her. 

"I  was  born  near  here;  I  used  to  know  you." 
She  leaned  forward,  clasping  her  hands  on  her  knee, 
and  he  noticed  that  her  fingers  trembled. 


250  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  am  an  old  man  and  forgetful,"  he  said  pleas- 
antly; "you  must  jog  my  memory.  Who  are  the 
friends  you  wish  to  ask  for?" 

"Friends?"  she  repeated  in  a  strange  voice. 

"You  said  friends,"  he  replied  mildly. 

She  turned  her  face  toward  him,  lifting  her  veil. 
"Don't  you  know  me?"  she  asked  abruptly. 

Dr.  Cheyney,  looking  over  the  tops  of  his  spectacles, 
eyed  her  gravely.  It  was  a  handsome  face,  slightly 
pale,  with  large  eyes  and  full  red  lips,  beautiful,  no 
doubt,  in  its  first  youth,  but  lined  now  and  hardened, 
with  an  indefinable  expression  which  was  elusive, 
fluttering,  passionate,  and  most  of  all  unhappy.  The 
old  man  shook  his  head.  She  rose  from  her  seat  and 
crossing  the  room  quickly,  laid  her  large  white  hand 
on  his  arm.  She  was  close  to  him  now ;  he  could  see 
her  breathing  stir  the  laces  on  her  bosom,  and  was 
sharply  conscious  of  the  agitation  that  possessed  her 
and  seemed  to  thrill  her  very  touch  upon  his  sleeve. 
She  looked  into  his  eyes,  her  own  wild  and  sorrowful. 

"Is  it  possible?    Don't  you  know  me?" 

He  returned  her  gaze  sorrowfully,  his  face  changing 
sharply.  "Yes,"  he  said  soberly,  after  a  moment, 
"I  do  now,  Letty." 

"Letty!"  She  bit  her  lips,  with  a  little  hard  sob, 
and  her  fingers  fell  from  his  arm.  "My  God!"  she 
cried,  "  how  it  all  comes  back !  No  one  has  called  me 
that  in  twenty  years." 

Dr.  Cheyney  made  no  responsive  movement  or  ges- 
ture; he  stood  looking  at  her  quietly,  curiously,  a 


CALEB  TRENCH  251 

little  sadly.  He  noted  the  dignity  of  figure,  and 
certain  fine  lines  of  beauty  that  had  rather  matured 
than  diminished,  yet  the  change  in  her  was  for  the 
worse  in  his  eyes.  Whatever  there  had  been  of  pas- 
sion and  vanity  and  waywardness  in  her  face  in  her 
youth  had  crystallized  with  maturity;  there  was  a 
palpable  worldliness  in  her  manner  which  sharpened 
his  conception  of  her  as  she  must  be  now.  The  long 
gap  in  the  years  since  he  had  known  her  as  she  was, 
until  now,  when  she  must  be  another  person,  was 
opened  suddenly  by  the  realization  of  the  change  in 
her,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  only  a  woman  could 
change  so  much.  Deeply  moved  herself,  she  was  only 
half  conscious  of  the  criticism  of  his  glance ;  she  came 
back  across  the  room  after  a  moment  and  stood  be- 
side him,  looking  at  the  falling  embers,  the  glow  of 
the  fire  acting  weirdly  in  its  illumination  of  her  face. 

"Tell  me  about  him,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice;  "I 
know  he  has  lost  nearly  everything." 

Dr.  Cheyney's  lips  tightened  a  little,  and  he 
frowned.  "Why  do  you  want  to  know?"  he  asked 
gravely. 

She  blushed  deeply  and  painfully.  "You  mean  I 
have  no  right?" 

He  nodded,  looking  at  the  fire. 

"Perhaps,  I  haven't,"  she  admitted  quickly, 
pleadingly.  "  But  there  is  Diana  —  has  he  made  her 
hate  me?" 

"She  thinks  you  dead,"  Dr.  Cheyney  replied 
quietly. 


252  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Dead?"  She  shuddered,  looking  up  with  fright- 
ened eyes.  Then  her  face  blazed  angrily.  "What 
right  had  he  to  do  it?  What  right  —  to  make  her 
believe  a  falsehood?" 

The  old  man's  eyes  met  hers  gravely,  rebukingly. 
"Was  n't  it  the  best  way,  Letty?"  he  asked  gently. 

Her  blush  deepened  again,  her  brow,  her  chin,  even 
her  throat  were  crimson.  She  bit  her  quivering  lip 
until  the  blood  came.  "You  are  very  cruel,"  she  said 
bitterly,  "you  righteous  people!" 

Dr.  Cheyney  leaned  heavily  on  the  mantel,  his  eyes 
on  the  fire.  "Would  you  have  had  us  tell  a  little  in- 
nocent child  that,  Letty?  Tell  her  that  her  mother 
had  deserted  her  and  brought  shame  upon  her?" 

"Do  you  mean  that  she  has  never  known?"  she 
cried,  amazed. 

"Never.  David  did  not  wish  her  to  know,  and  we 
respected  his  wish.  She  believes  her  mother  died 
when  she  was  three  years  old;  she  even  has  a  deep 
and  constant  tenderness  for  the  Shut  Room." 

She  looked  at  him  bewildered.  "I  do  not  under- 
stand." 

"Your  room,"  he  explained  simply;  "he  closed 
the  door  on  it  that  day,  and  for  twenty  years  it  has 
been  unchanged.  Yesterday  I  saw  the  very  book  you 
laid  face  downwards  on  the  table,  the  handkerchief 
you  dropped.  He  has  mourned  you  as  dead.  In  his 
gentleness,  his  humility,  his  greatness  of  soul,  he 
chooses  to  believe  you  died  that  day.  He  loved  you 
before  it,  he  has  loved  and  mourned  you  ever  since. 


CALEB  TRENCH  253 

No  one  has  ever  heard  a  reproach  from  his  lips,  no 
one  ever  will.  You  broke  his  heart." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  burst  into 
tears. 

The  old  man  stood  looking  at  her  unmoved,  though 
the  storm  of  her  emotion  shook  her  from  head  to  foot. 
Still  weeping,  she  threw  herself  into  the  chair  by  the 
fire  and  bowed  her  head  on  her  arms. 

"It  is  twenty  years,"  she  said  at  last,  "and  I  have 
suffered  —  have  you  never  forgiven  me,  William 
Cheyney?" 

The  old  man's  face  saddened  yet  more  deeply. 
"There  was  nothing  for  me  to  forgive;  we  all  had 
his  great  example." 

She  looked  up  with  swimming  eyes,  her  lips  twitch- 
ing with  pain.  "  It 's  twenty  years  —  he  married  me 
after  David  got  the  divorce,  you  knew  that?" 

The  doctor  nodded. 

"  He 's  dead.  Oh,  he  knew  I  had  suffered,  he 
wearied  of  me,  and  now  he  's  dead  and  I  'm  all  alone. 
Oh,  don't  you  understand?"  she  held  out  both  hands 
toward  him,  "don't  you  know  why  I  came?" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  sadly.  "God  knows," 
he  said. 

"I  want  Diana!"  she  cried,  "I  want  my  daughter 
—  I  want  her  love ! " 

Dr.  Cheyney  looked  at  her  thoughtfully.  "  She  's 
twenty-three,  Letty,"  he  said  simply,  "and  she  loves 
her  father." 

She  winced,  turning  her  eyes  from  his  to  the  fire. 


254  CALEB  TRENCH 

"I  have  seen  her,"  she  said,  in  subdued  tones,  "once 
or  twice  when  she  did  not  know  it.  She  looks  — 
don't  you  think  she  looks  as  I  did?"  she  added 
eagerly. 

"No,"  he  said  sternly,  "no,  she's  like  David's 
mother." 

She  flushed  angrily.  "Oh,  never!"  she  exclaimed. 
"She  is  like  me  —  but  you  won't  admit  it." 

Dr.  Cheyney  shook  his  head. 

Disappointed,  she  dropped  her  chin  into  her  hand 
and  looked  again  into  the  fire.  "David  has  lost 
everything,"  she  said  after  a  moment.  "I  know,  I 
heard  in  New  York." 

Dr.  Cheyney,  looking  down  at  her,  wondered  what 
her  secret  thought  was,  how  far  remorse  had  touched 
her?  "I'm  afraid  he's  badly  hit,"  he  admitted 
slowly. 

She  rose  and  went  to  him,  her  hands  trembling. 
"Help  me,"  she  said  with  feverish  eagerness,  "help 
me  to  get  Diana.  I  want  her  to  come  to  me;  I  can 
take  care  of  her.  It  would  help  him,  too.  Oh,  don't 
you  s'ee  I  could  do  that  much?" 

The  old  doctor's  penetrating  eyes  met  hers.  "  You 
can  take  care  of  her,"  he  repeated;  "you  were  not 
wealthy,  Letty ;  have  you  grown  so?" 

"You  have  always  been  hard  in  your  judgment  of 
me,"  she  cried  bitterly.  "I  am  not  a  bad  woman  — 
I  know,  oh,  I  know  I  sinned!  I  married  David  so 
young;  I  found  out  my  mistake,  and  when  Fenwick 
came  —  I  loved  him,  I  ran  away  from  my  husband 


CALEB  TRENCH  255 

and  my  child,  I  was  wicked  —  oh,  I  know  it !  But  I 
suffered.  I  am  not  poor.  He  left  me  well  off,  almost 
rich.  I  have  a  right  to  it,  he  married  me,  I  am  his 
widow." 

Dr.  Cheyney  said  nothing;  he  moved  away  from 
her  a  little  and  again  leant  his  elbow  on  the 
mantel. 

"Will  you  help  me,  will  you  go  to  Diana?"  she 
pleaded,  following  him  with  sorrowful  eyes. 

He  shook  his  head.    "  Never ! " 

She  wrung  her  hands  unconsciously.  "You  think 
I  have  no  right  to  Diana?" 

"Have  you?"  he  asked  quietly. 

She  hung  her  head,  and  the  intensity  of  her  suffer- 
ing touched  him  without  shaking  his  resolve. 

"Have  you  any  right  to  spend  a  dollar  of  that 
money  on  her?"  he  added;  "surely  you  know  that 
she  could  not  receive  it?" 

There  was  a  long  silence.  She  turned,  and  hiding 
her  face  against  the  high  back  of  the  chair,  sobbed 
convulsively.  "  You  want  to  rob  me  of  the  last  thing 
I  have  in  the  world ! "  she  said  at  last. 

"You  deserted  her,"  he  replied  more  gently. 

She  raised  her  face,  wet  with  her  passionate  tears, 
and  held  out  both  hands  to  him.  "Will  you  help  me, 
will  you  tell  her  I  am  not  dead?  I  am  her  mother; 
she  has  a  right  to  know  it." 

Dr.  Cheyney  still  regarded  her.  "He  is  very  ill, 
Letty,"  he  said,  "  he  may  die :  would  you  rob  him  of 
his  daughter?" 


256  CALEB  TRENCH 

"No,  oh,  no!"  she  cried  impetuously,  "but  I  —  I 
want  her,  too;  I  have  wanted  her  for  twenty  years. 
Oh,  Dr.  Cheyney,  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth!" 

"Diana  will  not  go  with  you,"  he  said  quietly.  "I 
know  it,  and  if  she  would,  I  would  not  tell  her." 

"You  refuse?"  She  leaned  forward,  still  holding 
the  chair  with  one  hand  and  the  other  pressed  against 
her  heart. 

"Absolutely." 

She  shivered.     "Cruel !"  she  whispered  bitterly. 

He  turned  to  his  medicine  cabinet  and  began  to 
unlock  the  door.  "Stay  a  moment,"  he  said  kindly, 
"you  need  something,  you -will  be  ill." 

But  she  fastened  her  wraps  at  her  throat  and  let 
her  veil  fall  over  her  face  again.  "  I  am  not  ill,"  she 
said  bitterly,  "only  heart-broken." 

He  urged  her  to  taste  the  cordial  in  his  hand,  but 
she  put  it  aside  and  went  to  the  door.  The  old  man 
followed  her. 

"  Letty,"  he  said,  "  David  Royall  is  very  ill ;  do  not 
lay  another  sin  against  him  on  your  conscience." 

She  had  opened  the  door  and,  at  his  words,  turned 
and  laid  her  cheek  against  the  lintel  with  a  hard  dry 
sob.  "I  will  see  Diana,"  she  said. 

The  doctor  made  no  reply;  his  quick  ear  had 
caught  the  sound  of  a  step  on  the  veranda,  and  al- 
most at  the  same  moment  Caleb  Trench  appeared  in 
the  lighted  space  before  the  open  door. 

"What  is  it,  Caleb?"  the  doctor  asked  quickly. 


CALEB  TRENCH  257 

The  young  man  glanced  at  the  tall  woman  who 
still  leaned  against  the  door.  "I've  just  got  back 
from  town,"  he  said,  "  and  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about 
Colonel  Royall.  I  hear  that  he  is  ill." 

The  woman  started  and  drew  away,  and  Caleb 
saw  it. 

Dr.  Cheyney  shook  his  head  apprehensively. 
"Very  ill,"  he  said;  "he  was  taken  with  a  sinking 
spell  about  noon.  Come  in,  Caleb,  and  I  '11  tell  you 
about  it." 

Trench  stood  aside  to  let  the  veiled  woman  pass 
out,  and  then  he  followed  Dr.  Cheyney  into  the  study 
with  a  face  of  some  anxiety.  He  looked  worn  and  old 
for  his  years,  but  resolutely  calm.  "How  do  you 
think  he  really  is?"  he  asked. 

Dr.  Cheyney  sank  down  into  his  easy-chair  by 
the  fire.  "  I  'm  not  sure  that  he  '11  live,  "  he  said 
despondently. 

Trench  frowned,  making  an  inarticulate  sound. 
The  firelight  flared  on  his  face  now,  and  its  expression 
was  significant.  Dr.  Cheyney  bent  down  and  began 
a  desultory  search  for  his  carpet  slippers ;  even  in  the 
most  interesting  moments  of  life,  physical  discom- 
forts pinch  the  unwary,  and  the  old  man's  feet  ached. 
"He's  worn  out,  broken-hearted,"  he  said,  referring 
to  his  old  friend  and  removing  his  boots  absently. 
"  He  's  taken  this  affair  to  heart,  too." 

"Jacob  Eaton?" 

The  doctor  nodded.  "Smooth  young  scamp,"  he 
said  bitterly,  "I  always  wanted  to  deal  out  the 

17 


258  CALEB  TRENCH 

husks  to  him,  but  I  reckon  he  '11  get  'em  in  the  Lord's 
good  time.  It 's  pretty  bad,  I  suppose,  Caleb." 

•'Worse  than  we  thought,"  replied  Caleb.  "The 
Harrisons'  bank  closed  its  doors  to-night ;  he 's 
wrecked  it  and  there  's  a  terrible  panic  in  the  city. 
I  wonder  if  he  took  much  with  him?" 

"All  he  could  get,  I  reckon,"  mused  the  doctor,  his 
mind  dwelling  not  on  Jacob  but  on  Letty,  and  the 
climax  which  he  saw  impending. 

Meanwhile  Caleb  Trench  sat  staring  into  the  fire. 
"I'm  afraid  Colonel  Royall  will  suffer  heavily,"  he 
said ;  "  he  was  n't  so  deeply  involved,  it  appears, 
but  —  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  wide-spread  ruin  — 
he  offered  to  redeem  a  number  of  Jacob  Eaton's 
pledges.  His  offer  was  accepted,  the  papers  signed, 
and  now  all  these  claims  are  rolling  up.  I  honor  him 
for  what  he  did,"  Trench  added  simply;  "it  was 
noble,  but  it  was  quixotic.  I  fear  greatly  for  the 
consequences." 

Dr.  Cheyney  settled  himself  back  in  his  winged 
chair  and  put  the  tips  of  his  fingers  together.  "I 
think  likely  he  '11  escape  it  all,"  he  remarked  gravely ; 
"he  was  unconscious  twenty  minutes  to-day  and 
David  is  n't  as  young  as  he  was.  He  may  be  fortu- 
nate enough  to  pass  beyond  this  trouble." 

Trench  moved  uneasily,  then  he  rose  and  stood, 
his  back  to  the  fire.  "  And  Miss  Royall  ?"  he  said. 

"She's  with  her  father,"  replied  Dr.  Cheyney. 
"Caleb,  I  never  saw  anything  so  fine  as  she  was  at 
your  trial." 


CALEB  TRENCH  259 

Trench  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  his  face  in 
the  shadow  eluded  scrutiny.  "I  would  have  given 
my  right  hand  to  save  her  that  notoriety,"  he  said 
at  last. 

Dr.  Cheyney  looked  thoughtful,  but  there  was  the 
shadow  of  a  smile  in  the  depths  of  his  mild  eyes. 
"  You  've  never  asked  me  to  finish  my  testimony," 
he  remarked.  "I  'm  in  the  possession  of  a  secret  that 
would  clear  up  all  this  scandal  about  poor  little 
Sammy ;  I  've  waited  three  weeks  and  you  don't  ask 
me.  I  wonder  if  you  're  human,  Caleb  Trench?" 

Trench  swung  around  and  faced  him.  The  ex- 
pression of  his  face,  its  power  and  its  mastery  and 
self-control  had  never  been  more  poignant.  "Dr. 
Cheyney,"  he  said,  "  it  does  n't  concern  me :  let  them 
say  what  they  please." 

"On  my  soul!"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  "I  won't  tell 
you !  You  're  too  pesky  proud  to  live.  I  reckon 
they  '11  say  all  you  want  and  more  too,  young  man." 

"Let  them!"  said  Caleb. 


XXVIII 

IT  was  two  days  after  this  that  Judge  Hollis  came 
into  Caleb's  little  office  and  found  him  at  work 
in  his  shirt  sleeves.  The  table  and  desk  were 
covered  with  papers  and  open  telegrams.  The  judge 
eyed  the  place  critically.  Order  showed  in  the  neat 
pigeonholes  and  the  rows  of  packed  shelves. 

"In  two  years  you  '11  have  me  beat,"  remarked  the 
judge,  "then  I  '11  take  down  my  shingle." 

Caleb  smiled  wearily.  "You  forget  that  this  only 
shows  how  far  behindhand  I  am,"  he  replied;  "you 
were  never  on  trial  for  your  life,  Judge." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said,  "and 
I  was  never  the  most  conspicuous  figure  in  the  State. 
Caleb,  you  've  been  threatened?" 

"Some  letters,  yes,"  the  younger  man  admitted, 
without  emotion,  "from  cranks,  I  fancy." 

"No,"  said  the  judge  flatly,  "there's  feeling. 
Some  of  these  ignorant  people  have  got  a  notion 
that  your  campaign  against  Eaton,  your  attack  on 
his  company,  destroyed  his  credit  and  drove  him  to 
the  wall.  They  've  got  the  idea  that  he  'd  have  saved 
himself,  and  their  investments,  if  you  'd  let  him  be. 
They  're  wild  about  it ;  money  loss  goes  to  the  quick, 
when  a  man  can't  pay  for  his  bacon  he  wants  a  scape- 


CALEB  TRENCH  261 

goat.  The  better  sort  know  it 's  not  your  doing,  and, 
I  '11  say  it  for  'em,  the  newspapers  have  been  decent, 
but  there  's  feeling,  Caleb ;  you  'd  better  go  armed." 

Caleb  laughed.  "Judge,  I  was  bred  a  Quaker.  I 
only  used  my  pistol  here  in  self-defense;  I  never 
went  out  with  one  in  my  pocket  in  my  life." 

The  judge  rubbed  his  chin.  "  You  'd  better  now," 
he  remarked  shortly. 

Caleb  leaned  back  hi  his  chair  and  looked  out  of 
the  window  thoughtfully.  "I  wonder  what  my 
father  would  have  said  to  his  son  carrying  weapons?" 
he  reflected,  amused. 

"Good  deal  better  than  to  get  a  hole  hi  you,"  the 
judge  retorted;  "you  know  how  to  use  it !" 

Trench  colored.  "My  blood  was  up,  Judge,"  he 
said,  "a  mob  's  a  cowardly  thing;  I  never  felt  such 
disgust  in  my  life." 

"Humph !"  ejaculated  the  judge  eloquently. 

Caleb  smiled  involuntarily.  "  I  don't  think  there  's 
any  danger,"  he  said  pleasantly. 

"Of  course  not!"  snapped  the  judge.  "Trench, 
why  don't  you  clear  up  this  talk  about  that  kid  in 
yonder?  Cheyney  knows  who  the  father  is;  make 
him  tell.  By  the  Lord  Harry,"  he  added,  thumping 
the  table  with  his  fist,  "  I  wanted  it  out  in  court." 

Caleb  Trench  turned  slightly  away,  his  face  in- 
scrutable. "Judge,"  he  said,  "I  wouldn't  stir  a 
finger.  I  took  in  the  kid  just  as  I  took  in  the  dog. 
Let  them  talk." 

The  judge  stared  at  him  angrily,  uncomprehend- 


262  CALEB  TRENCH 

ingly.  "I  reckon  you  're  a  crank,"  he  said;  "you  're 
worse  than  David  Royall." 

"How  is  the  colonel  to-day?"  Caleb  asked,  to 
change  the  subject;  he  knew,  for  he  had  asked  Dr. 
Cheyney  over  the  telephone. 

"  He  's  better,"  retorted  the  judge  shortly ;  "  you  're 
not,  and  you  '11  be  worse  if  you  don't  watch  out. 
There  are  snakes  in  the  grass." 

Caleb  smiled.  "Judge,"  he  said,  "if  I  listened  to 
any  one  in  the  world  I  would  to  you ;  I'm  not 
ungrateful." 

"Nonsense!"  retorted  the  judge,  and  jammed  his 
hat  down  harder  than  usual. 

At  the  door  he  stopped  and  waved  his  cane  aggres- 
sively. "I've  warned  you,"  he  said  harshly,  "and 
if  you  were  not  an  idiot,  sir,  you  'd  make  Cheyney 
speak.  It 's  some  dratted  crank  of  his  about  his 
professional  honor!" 

"How  about  a  lawyer's,  Judge?"  asked  Caleb, 
amused. 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  old  man,  and  went  out 
and  slammed  the  door. 

Later  that  afternoon  business  took  Caleb  up  to 
Cresset's  Corners  to  see  Aaron  Todd.  He  had  been 
twice  to  Broad  Acres  to  inquire  for  Colonel  Royall 
without  seeing  Diana;  he  had  refrained  from  asking 
for  her.  Dr.  Cheyney  had  told  him  that  she  would 
not  leave  her  father,  and  he  knew  that,  as  yet,  he 
could  scarcely  express  all  he  felt  about  the  ordeal 
of  her  testimony.  He  had  forborne  to  account  for 


CALEB  TRENCH  263 

that  time  to  spare  her  the  publicity  of  the  witness- 
stand,  and  his  very  silence  only  made  her  evidence 
more  significant.  To  see  her  and  thank  her  without 
saying  all  that  was  in  his  heart  was  no  easy  matter. 
He  had  driven  back  his  love  for  her,  and  battled 
against  it,  denied  it  a  right  to  exist,  because  he  knew 
that  she  regarded  him  as  an  inferior.  But  now,  by 
her  own  act,  when  she  acknowledged  him  as  her 
friend  and  defended  him  at  the  cost  of  a  hundred 
uncharitable  rumors,  it  seemed  that  he  might  have 
misunderstood  her  natural  pride  of  birth  and  afflu- 
ence for  a  repugnance  to  his  poverty.  When  their 
eyes  met  in  the  court-room  with  that  inevitable 
shock  of  mutual  feeling  that  leaves  a  startled  cer- 
tainty behind  it,  he  had  felt  almost  sure  that  she  loved 
him.  But  since  then  he  had  plunged  back  again  into 
his  old  doubts,  arguing  that  her  testimony  had  been 
merely  a  matter  of  duty,  and  that  his  own  feeling 
had  deceived  him  into  imagining  that  her  heart  was 
likewise  touched.  He  had  no  right  to  suppose  that 
her  evidence  was  otherwise  than  involuntary,  the 
exact  rendering  of  the  truth  to  save  a  man's  life.  If 
he  went  further  and  believed  that  she  loved  him,  he 
was  overstepping  the  bounds  of  probability.  Love 
is  an  involuntary  passion,  says  an  honored  moralist; 
we  cannot  help  it,  but  we  can  starve  it  out.  And 
Caleb  had  set  himself  to  starve  it  out  but  it  may  be 
said  that  he  found  the  battle  an  unequal  one.  He 
was  like  a  man  who  had  walked  persistently,  and  of 
his  own  choice,  in  a  sullen  fog,  and  saw  suddenly, 


264  CALEB  TRENCH 

through  a  vast  rent  in  the  mist,  the  golden  sunshine 
of  another  day.  The  fog  of  his  doubts  and  his  un- 
belief had  lifted  on  that  afternoon  in  court,  only  to 
settle  down  again  in  denser  gloom. 

Meanwhile,  the  tumult  of  battle  went  on.  He  was 
once  more  leading  the  anti-Eaton  forces,  leading  them 
triumphantly  now,  and  crash  after  crash  in  financial 
circles  told  of  the  complete  collapse  of  that  bubble 
which  had  been  called  the  Eaton  Investment  Com- 
pany. There  is  no  keener  incentive  to  anger  than 
money  loss,  as  Judge  Hollis  said;  there  were  many 
who  cried  out  against  Caleb  as  the  instigator  of  an 
investigation  which  had  culminated  in  almost  uni- 
versal ruin  in  the  county.  The  wave  of  popularity 
that  had  swept  around  him  at  the  hour  of  his  acquittal 
was  receding,  and  leaving  him  beached  on  the  sands 
of  public  criticism. 

None  of  these  things,  however,  greatly  troubled  the 
man  himself;  he  pursued  his  course  with  the  same 
determination  with  which  he  had  begun  it.  He  had 
foreseen  unpopularity  and  met  it  with  unshaken 
purpose.  What  immediately  concerned  him  was  his 
plain  duty,  and  his  experience  at  the  time  of  his 
arrest  and  trial  had  inspired  him  with  a  pessimistic 
unbelief  in  the  clamorous  plaudits  of  the  masses. 
For,  in  a  day,  he  had  dropped  from  the  height  of  the 
popularity  of  his  Cresset  speech  to  the  degradation 
of  a  despised  and  suspected  prisoner.  Like  all  those 
who  have  tasted  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  they  had  no 
longer  the  same  terrors  for  him.  He  was  stronger  in 


CALEB  TRENCH  265 

his  position  now  than  ever,  his  reputation  was  already 
growing  beyond  the  borders  of  the  State,  but  he  was 
less  popular  in  doing  an  unwelcome  duty  than  he  had 
been  as  the  exponent  of  the  new  theories  of  investi- 
gation. A  vivid  recollection  of  all  that  had  passed 
in  the  last  few  weeks  stirred  his  mind  as  he  walked  up 
the  trail  to  Broad  Acres.  Shot,  who  had  become 
devoted  to  Sammy,  had  followed  him  only  a  little 
way  and  then  returned  to  his  new  playmate,  so  Caleb 
was  alone.  He  had  avoided  the  road  and  ascended 
the  trail,  because  the  woodland  solitudes  left  his 
mind  free  to  his  own  meditations,  and  the  bleak  and 
russet  aspect  of  the  woods,  the  naked  trees  and  the 
brown  leaves  underfoot,  in  some  delicate  and  subtle 
manner,  harmonized  with  his  sober  mood.  The  keen 
blue  of  the  river  below  him  and  the  purple  of  the  dis- 
tant hills  rested  his  eyes.  He  swung  on,  his  long  easy 
stride  carrying  him  fast,  and  in  a  few  moments  he 
saw  Kingdom-Come  leaning  on  the  fence  at  the  side 
of  the  Broad  Acres  vegetable  garden.  The  negro 
was  stripping  the  leaves  off  a  cauliflower  and  gazing 
curiously  at  Caleb  Trench. 

"How's  the  colonel?"  Caleb  asked,  stopping  a 
moment,  and  his  glance  wandered  toward  the  old 
house  where  even  the  jingo  tree  had  dropped  its  last 
golden  leaves  upon  the  grass. 

"He  's  bettah,  suh,"  said  Kingdom,  "so  de  doctah 
says.  "  I  'se  not  so  sure ;  seems  mighty  po'ly  ter  me, 
Mistah  Trench." 

Caleb  remembered  that  a  negro  never  admits  per- 


266  CALEB  TRENCH 

feet  health  and  felt  reassured.  "Say  to  the  colonel 
that  I  would  be  glad  to  be  of  any  service  to  him,"  he 
said,  and  wanted  to  add  Diana's  name  but  restrained 
the  impulse. 

"I  sho  will,  Mistah  Trench,"  said  Kingdom.  "Cool 
day,  suh,  gwine  ter  be  cold,  too;  de  moon  dun 
hangs  ter  de  north." 

"I  suppose  that's  an  infallible  sign,"  smiled 
Trench,  as  he  turned  away. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd,  ain't  yo'  nebber  heerd  dat?"  King- 
dom patted  the  cauliflower  affectionately,  having 
squared  off  the  remaining  green  petals.  "De  moon 
hung  north  means  cold,  suh,  an'  south  et  means  hot, 
jest  ez  sho'  ez  yo'  gets  er  disappintment  ef  yo  hangs 
annything  on  er  doah  knob." 

"I'll  try  to  remember  both  signs,"  said  Caleb 
good-naturedly. 

"Miss  Diana's  up  in  de  woods,"  volunteered  the 
negro,  with  that  innocence  which  sits  so  naturally 
on  a  black  face. 

Caleb  made  no  reply  this  time.  He  walked  on, 
choosing  the  road,  nor  did  he  look  again  toward  the 
house.  He  had  the  unpleasant  consciousness  that 
the  negro  had  read  him  as  easily  as  he  himself  read 
more  profound  riddles  in  the  exact  sciences. 

He  passed  the  last  confines  of  Broad  Acres  and 
turned,  involuntarily,  into  the  trail  which  led  him  to 
the  spot  where  he  had  stood  months  before  with 
Diana  and  told  her  that  he  loved  her.  Afterwards 
be  had  wondered  at  himself,  that  his  pride  had  not 


CALEB  TRENCH  267 

revolted  at  the  confession,  yet  he  had  never  alto- 
gether repented  of  it.  There  had  been  some  comfort 
in  telling  her  the  truth,  the  naked  truth.  He  recalled 
the  look  in  her  ej^es  in  the  court-room !  He  put  that 
thought  steadily  away  and  walked  rapidly  on.  An- 
other turn  would  show  him  the  long  glimpse  of  Para- 
dise Ridge.  Before  him  the  trail  ascended  under 
sweeping  hemlock  boughs,  beside  him  the  brush  rose 
breast  high.  Once  he  thought  he  heard  a  crackle  of 
twigs  and  turned  sharply,  but  there  was  no  one  in 
sight.  Then,  looking  ahead,  he  saw  Diana  Royall. 

She  was  coming  down  the  path  alone,  and  the  sun- 
set sky  behind  her  darkened  the  outlines  of  her  tall 
young  figure  until  it  was  silhouetted  against  the  sky. 
He  noticed  that  her  dress  was  gray  and  that  her  large 
black  hat  framed  the  fair  oval  of  her  face.  As  she 
drew  nearer  he  was  aware  of  the  gravity  and  sweet- 
ness of  her  expression.  As  yet  the  distance  was  too 
great  for  speech  and  he  did  not  hurry  his  step ;  there 
was,  perhaps,  more  joy  in  the  thought  of  this  meeting 
than  in  its  accomplishment.  But  he  saw  nothing  but 
this  picture,  the  mellow  sky  behind  it,  the  hemlock 
boughs  above. 

Then,  quite  suddenly,  he  felt  a  stinging  shock  and 
heard  a  loud  report,  as  he  reeled  and  fell  back  into 
darkness,  the  vision  going  out  as  though  a  great  black 
sponge  had  effaced  life  itself. 

Diana  rushed  to  him ;  she  had  seen  more  than  he, 
but  no  warning  of  hers  would  have  reached  him  in 
time,  and  now  she  did  not  think  of  herself,  or  of  any 


268  CALEB  TRENCH 

possible  danger.  She  dropped  on  her  knees  beside 
him  and  bent  down  to  look  into  his  face.  His  eyes 
were  closed;  she  could  not  tell  if  he  breathed,  and 
even  while  she  looked  she  saw  a  dark  red  stain  on  the 
breast  of  his  coat.  She  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  tried 
to  raise  his  head  on  her  arm.  She  realized  at  last  the 
power  that  his  very  presence  exerted,  the  influence 
that  he  had  had  over  her  from  the  very  first,  that  had 
made  her  yield  again  and  again  to  a  sense  of  his 
mastery.  She  loved  him.  She  no  longer  tried  to 
deny  it  to  herself,  and  she  felt  that  it  was  to  her 
shame  that  no  accusation  against  him  could  shake 
her  in  her  devotion.  Whatever  he  had  been  she 
loved  him;  whatever  his  faults,  in  her  eyes  there 
must  be,  there  would  be,  an  extenuation;  whatever 
his  sins  she  could  forgive  them!  Class  prejudice 
counted  for  nothing ;  she  was  his,  and  nothing  in  the 
world  mattered  to  her  in  that  one  blind  moment  of 
agony  for  his  life. 

"Oh,  God,"  she  prayed  softly,  "spare  me  this!" 
She  was  in  despair,  his  head  lay  heavy  on  her  arm, 
his  blood  stained  her  hands,  and  she  was  alone.  The 
wind  stirred  and  a  dead  leaf  fluttered  down.  How 
still  it  was !  To  leave  him  and  run  for  help  seemed 
her  only  resource,  but  to  leave  him !  She  could  not 
do  it !  She  thought  him  dead,  but  not  a  tear  came  to 
her  dry  eyes:  she  looked  down  at  his  white  face  and 
marked  the  lines  of  trouble  and  anxiety,  the  resolu- 
tion of  the  locked  mouth  and  jaw.  Did  he  breathe? 
"  Oh,  God ! "  she  prayed  again. 


CALEB  TRENCH  269 

She  remembered,  too,  that  it  was  here  that  he  had 
told  her  so  abruptly  that  he  loved  her.  She,  too,  re- 
membered that  moment  in  the  court-room,  and  a 
dry  sob  of  anguish  shook  her  from  head  to  foot.  She 
bent  down  suddenly  and  kissed  him,  but  she  could 
not  shed  a  tear. 

Then,  in  the  stillness,  she  heard  wheels,  and  laying 
him  gently  down,  she  ran  through  the  underbrush 
and  reached  the  road  just  below  the  fork.  It  was 
Dr.  Cheyney's  old  buggy,  and  she  cried  to  him  that 
Caleb  Trench  was  shot  and  lying  wounded  in  the 
trail.  The  old  man  got  down  and  followed  her  with- 
out a  word,  his  lips  set.  They  came  up  the  trail  and 
found  Trench  lying  as  she  had  left  him;  he  did  not 
seem  to  breathe.  Dr.  Cheyney  knelt  down  and  made 
a  brief  examination,  then  he  looked  for  something  to 
stop  the  bleeding.  Diana  gave  him  a  long  light 
scarf  she  had  worn  around  her  throat ;  she  was  quick 
and  deft  in  her  touch  and  worked  steadily  to  help  the 
doctor;  she  had  mastered  herself.  The  old  man 
fumbling  over  Caleb  drew  out  a  bit  of  blood-stained 
paper  and  glanced  at  it.  Then  he  went  on  with  his 
task. 

"Is  he  living?"  Diana  murmured  at  last. 

"  I  reckon  I  would  n't  do  this  if  he  was  n't,"  snapped 
the  doctor.  Then  he  rose  from  his  knees.  "You 
get  into  the  buggy,  Diana,  and  drive  down  to  the 
house  for  help ;  telephone  to  the  hospital,  we  '11  want 
a  stretcher." 

"  He  's  corning  to  our  house,"  said  Diana. 


270  CALEB  TRENCH 

Dr.  Cheyney  gave  her  a  grim  look.  "All  right/' 
he  said,  "but  a  stretcher  and  two  men.  I  wonder 
who  in  hell  did  this?"  he  added  fiercely. 

Diana  had  risen  from  her  knees.  "Zeb  Bartlett," 
she  said.  "  I  saw  him  too  late  to  cry  a  warning." 

Dr.  Cheyney's  face  changed  sharply.  He  handed 
the  paper  he  had  taken  from  Trench  to  Diana.  "I 
reckon  that's  yours  —  now  run!"  he  commanded. 

It  seemed  hours  to  Diana  before  she  got  help  there. 
In  reality  it  was  twenty  minutes.  The  negroes  im- 
provised a  stretcher  and  carried  Caleb  solemnly  down 
the  hill  and  across  the  long  lawns.  Diana  had  gone 
ahead  to  prepare  the  great  west  room  for  him,  and 
when  they  brought  him  in,  still  unconscious,  the 
white  bed  was  ready  and  the  long  table  for  the  oper- 
ation, and  she  had  telephoned  for  another  surgeon 
from  the  hospital.  At  eight  o'clock  that  night  they 
had  found  the  bullet  and  removed  it,  and  there  was  a 
fighting  chance  for  life. 

Diana,  who  had  waited  on  the  stairs  to  know  the 
worst,  said  nothing.  In  her  own  room  she  had  looked 
at  the  blood-stained  paper  which  Dr.  Cheyney  had 
so  strangely  given  her.  Across  it  was  written  her 
own  name  in  her  bold  handwriting.  She  looked  at  it 
strangely,  and  then  with  a  stinging  sense  of  shame; 
it  was  the  receipt  for  six  cents  with  which  she  had 
mocked  him  long  ago.  And  he  had  carried  it  all  this 
time!  Diana  laid  her  head  down  on  her  arms  and 
burst  into  tears. 


XXIX 

THE  agony  of  the  night  and  the  ensuing  morn- 
ing left  Diana  feeling  lifeless.  Her  only  con- 
solation was  in  the  fact  that  her  father  was 
able  to  be  up  and  in  his  chair,  and  by  nine  o'clock 
they  had  received  a  message  that  poor  Jinny  Eaton 
showed  signs  of  recovering  her  senses.  Of  Jacob 
nothing  was  heard,  to  her  great  relief.  A  trial  and 
imprisonment  would  have  capped  the  climax  of 
Colonel  Royall's  mortification.  She  did  not  know 
that  Dr.  Cheyney  had  saved  her  that.  Nor  did  she 
tell  the  doctor,  nor  any  one,  that  she  and  Kingdom- 
Come  had  gone  down  the  night  before  to  Caleb's 
house  to  see  to  the  welfare  of  Sammy  and  the  dog. 

She  had  found  Aunt  Charity  there  and  bribed  her 
heavily  to  stay  over  night,  but  Diana  had  no  faith  in 
Charity  and  another  project  was  shaping  itself  in  her 
mind.  She  would  have  liked  to  consult  her  father, 
but  she  could  not  trouble  him  and  the  trials  of  the 
last  few  months  had  been  developing  Diana.  All  that 
was  sweet  and  malleable  in  the  girl's  nature  had  crys- 
tallized into  greater  strength,  and  a  greater  sweetness, 
too ;  she  was  no  longer  a  girl,  but  a  woman,  and  her 
greatness  of  heart  showed  in  the  breadth  of  her  char- 
ity. She  had  sat  down  in  the  old  leather  chair  in 


272  CALEB  TRENCH 

Caleb's  office  and  lifted  Jean  Bartlett's  child  to  her 
knee  without  a  shudder  of  repulsion  at  that  shameful 
story.  Instead,  she  touched  the  child's  head  ten- 
derly and  crooned  over  it,  womanlike.  Oh,  if  Caleb 
could  have  seen  her  in  the  old  worn  chair ! 

Her  own  thoughts  were  filled  with  him  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  everything  else  on  earth.  She  was  almost 
frightened  at  the  strength  of  her  feeling  for  him,  he 
seemed  even  to  put  aside  her  anxiety  for  her  father, 
his  life  was  her  one  passionate  petition  to  Heaven. 
And  she  was  conscious  now  that  she  wanted  not  only 
his  life,  but  his  love. 

Dr.  Cheyney  had  installed  a  trained  nurse,  and  there 
was  a  young  surgeon  from  the  hospital  in  charge. 
Diana's  only  privilege  was  to  go  to  the  door  and  in- 
quire, and  wait  upon  the  doctors.  She  did  this  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  negroes,  who  considered  it  their 
duty  to  remonstrate  with  Miss  Diana.  In  the  after- 
noon Dr.  Cheyney  told  her  that  Caleb  had  borne  the 
operation  so  well  that  there  was  much  hope.  Then 
Diana  went  out  bareheaded  into  the  deserted  grounds 
and  wandered  about  them  aimlessly,  trying  to  regain 
her  natural  composure. 

They  had  arrested  Zeb  Bartlett,  and  he  had  given 
his  sister's  disgrace  as  his  reason  for  shooting  Caleb, 
—  a  belated  vengeance,  but  one  that  suited  the  public 
appetite  for  scandal.  Diana  had  heard  it  unmoved. 
In  that  dreadful  moment  when  he  lay  at  her  feet, 
seemingly  dead,  she  had  forgotten  Jean  Bartlett,  and 
even  now,  nothing  in  the  world  mattered  to  her  but 


CALEB  TRENCH  273 

his  life.  Her  face  flushed  with  shame  for  her  own  in- 
difference, the  deadening  of  every  instinct  but  her 
agonizing  anxiety  for  his  life.  She  had  learned  that 
love  is  greater  than  judgment  and  as  great  as  mercy. 
She  walked  slowly  along  the  path  between  the  box- 
bordered  flower-beds;  here  and  there  a  late  rose 
bloomed  in  the  autumn  sunshine,  and  in  the  arbor 
the  great  ungathered  clusters  of  grapes  hung  purple, 
sweetened  by  frost. 

Before  her  was  the  same  vista  which  showed  from 
the  Shut  Room,  and  she  saw  the  river.  That  view  re- 
called the  room  and  the  days  her  father  had  sat  there 
before  his  illness,  and  she  thought  of  her  mother  with 
that  vague  sweet  regret  with  which  we  think  of  the 
unknown  dead  whom  we  would  have  loved.  Then 
she  looked  up  and  saw  a  woman  coming  toward  her 
from  the  gate.  She  was  a  stranger,  yet  Diana  was 
instinctively  aware  of  a  familiarity  hi  her  bearing 
and  her  gait.  She  stood  waiting  for  her  approach, 
looking  keenly  at  her  face,  which  was  beautiful 
though  it  looked  a  little  haggard  and  worn.  The 
woman  came  on,  looking  eagerly,  in  her  turn,  at 
Diana.  For  one  so  apparently  wealthy  and  at  ease, 
her  manner  was  almost  timid;  there  was  a  hesita- 
tion even  in  its  eagerness  as  though  she  feared  her 
welcome.  The  girl  saw  it  and  was  faintly  surprised. 
In  another  moment  the  stranger  was  in  front  of  her, 
and  she  saw  that  she  breathed  like  a  person  who  had 
been  running, or  was  in  great  trepidation.  She  stopped, 
and  involuntarily  her  hand  went  to  her  heart. 

18 


274  CALEB  TRENCH 

"You  are  Diana  Royall,"  she  said  abruptly. 

Diana  looked  at  her  gently,  vaguely  alarmed, 
though  at  what  she  could  not  divine.  Her  first 
thought,  strangely  enough,  was  a  message  from 
Jacob,  and  her  manner  grew  cold.  "Yes,"  she  said 
quietly,  "I  am  Diana  Royall;  can  I  do  anything  for 
you?" 

The  stranger  hesitated;  then  her  natural  manner, 
which  was  full  of  self-command,  asserted  itself.  "I 
am  Mrs.  Fenwick.  I  know  you  do  not  know  me, 
but  "  —  she  glanced  down  the  long  garden  path  — 
"will  you  walk  with  me  a  moment?"  she  said.  "I 
have  something  to  say  to  you." 

Diana  assented  reluctantly.  Her  own  heart  was 
behind  the  half-closed  shutters  in  that  upper  room, 
and  at  another  time  she  would  have  thought  the  re- 
quest at  once  remarkable  and  unwarranted.  They 
turned  and  walked  together  down  the  garden  path, 
and  as  Diana  stooped  to  unlatch  the  wicket  gate 
which  shut  off  the  rose  garden  from  the  larger  grounds, 
her  companion  shaded  her  eyes  with  her  hand  and 
looked  off  toward  the  river. 

"There  have  been  some  changes  in  this  view,  I 
think,"  she  said  abruptly,  her  eyes  on  the  landscape; 
"the  river  was  more  obscured  by  trees." 

"The  railroad  cut  cleared  a  bit  of  forest  and  gave 
us  a  finer  view,"  replied  Diana,  and  then  she  glanced 
quickly  at  her  visitor,  who  was  evidently  familiar  with 
the  prospect. 

"I  thought  so,"  said  Mrs.  Fenwick  softly,  "this 


CALEB  TRENCH  275 

view  is  familiar;  it  is  the  same  that  one  sees  from 
your  mother's  old  room." 

Diana  stood  still,  with  her  hand  on  the  wicket. 
"Did  you  know  my  mother?"  she  asked  quickly. 

The  older  woman  turned  and  looked  fully  at  her. 
She  had  been  very  beautiful  in  her  first  youth,  and 
Diana  was  conscious  of  a  charm  at  once  subtle  and 
persuasive.  "Is  your  mother  dead?"  she  asked 
gently. 

The  girl  was  deeply  perplexed.  "She  died  twenty 
years  ago,"  she  replied. 

"She  died  twenty  years  ago?"  her  visitor  repeated 
dreamily,  looking  away  again.  "  It  may  be  so !  She 
may  have  died  to  this  life  here,  to  this  place,  to  these 
people,  but  believe  me,  Diana,  she  is  not  dead." 

They  had  passed  through  the  wicket  and  were 
standing  on  the  lower  lawn.  Instinctively  Diana 
drew  further  away  from  her ;  she  did  not  understand 
her,  and  she  disliked  her  familiarity,  but  as  yet  she 
was  unalarmed.  "My  mother  died  in  that  room  up 
there,"  she  said,  with  gentle  dignity,  "and  my  father 
has  mourned  her  ever  since,  and  has  taught  me  to 
mourn  her,  too." 

A  deep  flush  passed  over  Mrs.  Fenwick's  face,  and 
her  hands  trembled  a  little  as  they  hung  clasped  be- 
fore her.  Diana,  watching  her,  noticed  it  and  noticed 
the  grace  of  her  pose.  The  girl  thought  that  the  elder 
woman  never  forgot  herself,  that  her  actions,  even  her 
gestures,  were  considered,  that  there  was  something 
artificial  in  them,  yet  her  emotion  was  evident  and 
unfeigned. 


276  CALEB  TRENCH 

"It  was  good  of  him,"  said  Mrs.  Fenwick  slowly, 
"it  was,  I  suppose,  a  beautiful  idea,  but  it  was  an 
untruthful  one.  Diana,  I  am  your  mother." 

Diana  thought  her  mad.  She  drew  away  from  her 
again,  and  this  time  with  instinctive  repugnance,  yet 
she  was  pitiful.  This  was  evidently  a  delusion;  the 
woman  was  insane  and  to  be  pitied  and  dealt  with 
compassionately. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Mrs.  Fenwick,"  she  said  gently; 
"my  mother  is  dead." 

"I  tell  you  that  I  am  your  mother!"  cried  Letty, 
with  sudden  passion.  "  Your  mother  never  died ;  she 
was  wicked,  she  ran  away  from  your  father  and  from 
you  with  another  man.  I  am  that  wretched  woman, 
Diana;  forgive  me!" 

"I  think  you  are  quite  mad,"  said  Diana  coldly;  "I 
am  sure  you  are." 

"Good  God,  she  will  not  believe  me!"  Letty  ex- 
claimed ;  "  how  wonderful  the  web  of  deception  must 
have  been ;  I  did  not  know  before  that  David  Royall 
was  a  liar!" 

"Silence!"  Diana  towered.  "Do  not  dare  to  say 
one  word  against  my  father  here ! "  she  commanded. 

"Ah,  it  was  for  this  he  wrought  so  well!"  said 
Mrs.  Fenwick  bitterly,  "to  shut  out  the  sinner. 
Diana,  forgive  me,  look  at  me;  is  there  no  likeness 
in  my  face  to  my  own  pictures?  There  was  a  large 
one  of  me  in  my  first  youth.  Don't  you  know  me?" 

Diana  was  very  pale.  "There  is  no  picture  of  my 
mother,"  she  said  deliberately,  "and  I  do  not  believe 
you  are  my  mother." 


CALEB  TRENCH  277 

Letty  Fenwick  looked  at  her  despairingly.  She  had 
come  with  the  mad  impulse  of  affection,  long  pent  up 
in  her  warped  and  passionate  heart ;  she  had  wanted 
her  daughter,  and  she  had  never  dreamed  that  her 
daughter  would  not  want  her.  That,  instead,  the 
girl's  outraged  feelings  would  leap  up  in  defense  of 
the  deserted  father ;  that,  never  having  known  a  liv- 
ing mother,  her  mind  had  created  an  image  at  once 
beautiful  and  noble,  and  that  this  revelation  shocked 
every  instinct  of  her  nature.  The  older  woman  was 
vividly  aware  of  the  girl's  instinctive  aversion,  of  her 
reluctance  to  acknowledge  her  dawning  conviction, 
and  in  that  very  reluctance  Letty  read  her  own  exile 
and  defeat.  She  was,  indeed,  dead.  Colonel  Royall's 
curious  way  of  guarding  her  secret  from  her  daughter 
had  absolutely  estranged  her  forever.  He  had  ac- 
complished through  forbearance  and  love  what  he 
could  never  have  accomplished  through  passion  and 
revenge ;  she  was  forever  dead  to  her  own  child.  This, 
then,  was  the  punishment.  She  stood  looking  at  Diana 
in  a  kind  of  dull  despair. 

"You  are  very  beautiful,"  she  said,  "more  beauti- 
ful than  I  was  at  your  age,  Diana,  and  I  thank  Heaven 
that  you  will  not  be  like  me.  You  are  stronger,  braver, 
less  foolish.  I  was  both  foolish  and  wicked;  I  de- 
serted you,  but,  oh,  my  child,  I  suffered  for  it !  And 
I  am  asking  for  so  little  now,  —  your  love,  that  I  may 
see  you  sometimes,  your  forgiveness!" 

Her  voice  was  full  of  pleading ;  it  had  a  sweetness, 
too,  at  once  touching  and  eloquent.  Diana  returned 


278  CALEB  TRENCH 

her  look  sadly.  Conviction  had  been  growing  in  her 
heart ;  a  hundred  little  things  sprang  to  mind  to  con- 
firm this  strange  story,  —  hints,  suggestions  of  Jinny 
Eaton's,  inexplicable  actions  of  her  father.  It  might 
be  true,  but  she  was  appalled  at  the  stillness  of  her 
heart.  She  had  loved  her  mother's  memory,  but, 
confronted  with  this  strange  woman,  she  found  no  re- 
sponse. She  battled  against  conviction:  the  shatter- 
ing of  her  beautiful  dream  of  an  ideal  mother  was 
bitter  indeed. 

"I  cannot  believe  it!"  she  exclaimed,  "I  cannot 
believe  it!" 

Her  mother  drew  a  long  breath.  "  You  mean  you 
will  not  believe  it,"  she  said  quietly,  "  because  you 
would  rather  repudiate  the  sinner!  I  do  not  blame 
you.  But  it  is  true,  I  am  your  mother."  She  broke 
off,  her  parched  lips  quivered,  but  she  shed  no  tears. 
"Diana,"  she  said  after  a  moment,  "thank  God  that 
you  are  not  like  me  —  and  forgive  me." 

"I  cannot  believe  you !"  reiterated  Diana. 

But  as  she  spoke  they  both  saw  Dr.  Cheyney  cross- 
ing the  lawn  to  the  house,  and  her  mother  beckoned 
to  him.  The  old  man  came  reluctantly,  instinctively 
aware  of  the  cause  of  the  summons. 

"Dr.  Cheyney,"  Mrs.  Fenwick  said  with  forced 
composure,  "tell  Diana  that  I  am  her  mother." 

The  old  man  stood  with  his  hand  at  his  chin;  he 
was  very  pale.  Diana  looked  up  and  met  his  eyes, 
and  a  slow  painful  blush  went  up  to  her  hair. 

"She  is  your  mother,"  said  the  doctor  abruptly,  and 
turned  his  back. 


CALEB  TRENCH  279 

As  he  walked  away  Letty  Fenwick  held  out  both 
hands  pleadingly.  "Diana,"  she  said  softly,  "will 
you  kiss  me?" 

The  hot  tears  came  into  Diana's  eyes  and  fell  slowly 
on  her  pale  cheeks.  "  Mother ! "  she  said,  in  a  choked 
voice. 

Her  mother  caught  her  in  her  arms  and  kissed  her. 
"My  child !"  she  murmured,  "  my  child,  can  you  for- 
give me?" 

Diana  could  not  speak,  her  mother  was  weeping. 
"  Dear  girl,"  she  said,  "  I  'm  rich,  I  know  your  father  'a 
in  trouble;  let  me  help  you,  come  to  me.  Oh,  Diana, 
I  have  longed  for  you!" 

"And  leave  my  father?"  Diana's  pale  face  was 
stern.  "  Leave  him  in  sorrow  and  loss  and  loneliness? 
Never!" 

"Ah!"  said  her  mother  bitterly,  "you  love  him; 
it  is  he  who  has  all  your  heart ! " 

"I  love  him  dearly,"  said  the  girl,  "now  more  than 
ever." 

Letty  turned  away.  "He  is  revenged!"  she  said 
passionately. 

Diana  took  a  step  nearer  and  laid  her  hand  on  her 
arm.  "Mother,"  she  said  quietly,  "I  will  try  to  love 
you  also,  but  remember  that  for  twenty  years  I  have 
known  only  a  beautiful  image  of  you  that  his  love 
erected  to  save  your  memory  for  me.  But  I  will  try 
to  love  you,  I  will  certainly  come  to  see  you,  I  will 
do  anything  I  can,  but  only  on  one  condition  —  ' 

"My  God!"   cried  Letty  passionately,  "you  make 


280  CALEB  TRENCH 

a  condition?  You  bargain  with  me  —  I  must  beg  for 
and  buy  your  love?" 

"No,"  replied  Diana,  "love  you  cannot  buy,  but  I 
will  do  all  I  can,  if  you  will  promise  me  never  to  let 
this  great  sorrow  mar  his  life  again,  if  you  will  help 
me  guard  him,  if  you  will  remember  how  beautifully 
he  shielded  your  name  for  your  child." 

Letty  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  "Alas!" 
she  said,  "you  have  found  a  way  to  punish  me,  but 
I  promise,  Diana." 

"He  has  been  ill,"  Diana  went  on  hurriedly,  "he 
has  been  in  trouble,  he  needs  me  every  moment,  and 
I  love  him  dearly ;  for  his  sake,  because  he  wishes  it, 
I  love  you  also." 

Mrs.  Fen  wick  still  wept ;  involuntarily  they  turned 
together  and  walked  slowly  toward  the  gate.  "I 
want  to  see  him,"  she  said  at  last,  "I  want  to  ask  his 
forgiveness." 

"You  have  it,"  said  Diana  simply.  "I  dare  not 
take  you  to  him  now,  not  to-night.  Dr.  Cheyney 
must  tell  him,  I  —  I  cannot.  But  his  forgiveness,  it 
is  yours  already." 

Letty  looked  back  over  the  house.  A  thousand 
haunting  memories  swept  over  her,  and  she  shivered. 
"  Diana,"  she  said,  "  I  am  rich,  I  must  help  you 
now." 

Diana's  pale  face  crimsoned;  her  father's  honor 
had  never  seemed  more  sacred  to  her.  "  No,"  she  said 
simply,  "you  cannot." 

Her  mother  met  her  eyes  and  turned  away  abruptly. 


CALEB  TRENCH  281 

At  the  gate  she  put  out  her  hand  blindly  and  touched 
Diana's;  the  girl  took  it  and  kissed  her. 

"  Forgive  me  —  mother ! "  she  murmured. 

Letty  clung  to  her  a  moment  and  then  turned  to 
go  out  alone.  "My  sin  has  found  me  out!"  she 
cried  bitterly,  and  dropped  her  veil  over  her  face. 

Diana,  standing  in  the  gate,  watched  her  go  away 
alone.  In  her  own  anguish  she  was  scarcely  conscious 
of  the  tragic  picture  of  the  exile.  In  moments  so 
poignant  with  feeling  the  great  lesson  of  life  is  lost. 
Diana  had  instinctively  obeyed  the  impulse  of  love 
and  duty,  for  once  irreconcilable  with  mercy,  and 
she  was  unaware  that  she  had  been  an  instrument  of 
one  woman's  punishment.  She  went  back  to  the 
house  and  found  her  father  alone.  Every  impulse 
of  her  heart  clamored  to  tell  him  that  she  knew,  to 
sympathize,  to  go  to  him  for  comfort,  as  she  had  all 
her  life.  But  he  looked  up  as  she  entered. 

"  Diana,"  he  said  gently,  "  you  look  to-day  as  your 
mother  did  at  your  age." 

Diana  slipped  down  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  and 
threw  her  arms  around  his  neck.  "Was  she  beauti- 
ful, father?"  she  asked  quietly. 

"Very,  dear,  like  you,"  he  said;  for  twenty  years 
he  had  woven  his  simple  romance. 

Diana  laid  her  cheek  against  his.  "Thank  you, 
dear,"  she  said,  "for  her  memory  —  we  will  always 
love  it  together." 


XXX 

WHEN  Dr.  Cheyney  came  down-stairs  he 
found  Colonel  Royall  alone,  and  he  was 
able  to  reassure  him  about  the  patient  in 
the  west  room. 

"He's  going  to  live,"  he  said;  "he's  had  a  close 
squeak,  but  he  '11  pull  through  unless  something  else 
happens.  Lucky  thing,  too,  for  Zeb  Bartlett." 

"That  poor  boy  is  an  idiot,"  said  the  colonel  re- 
flectively. "I  can't  see  what  he  did  it  for?" 

"Mad  at  Caleb  for  one  thing,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney, 
"  has  been  for  some  time  because  he  could  n't  beg 
from  him  all  the  while.  Then  he  was  set  on,  had  a 
pistol  given  him,  I  reckon." 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  the  colonel,  startled. 

"Reckon  so,"  said  the  doctor  mildly;  he  did  not 
add  that  in  the  Commonwealth  attorney's  office  it 
was  known  to  be  Jacob  Eaton's  pistol;  "got  some 
fool  notion  about  his  sister." 

"That 's  a  pretty  bad  business,"  said  Colonel 
Royall. 

"Quite  so !"  agreed  the  doctor  dryly. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened  and  Diana  came 
in;  she  was  leading  a  child  by  the  hand,  and  a  dog 
followed  her.  Dr.  Cheyney  took  off  his  spectacles. 


CALEB  TRENCH  283 

"I  '11  be  jiggered !"  he  said  abruptly. 

Colonel  Royall  smiled  faintly.  "She  would  have 
her  way,"  he  said  apologetically.  "I  objected,  but 
Diana  rules  the  roost." 

Diana's  sad  eyes  met  the  doctor's  with  a  flash  of 
humor.  "I  shan't  let  you  stay  if  you  worry  him," 
she  said. 

The  doctor  held  out  his  hand  to  Sammy,  but  Sammy 
refused  to  leave  Diana ;  he  clung  to  her  skirts  and  hid 
his  face  in  the  folds. 

"Seems  to  take  kindly  to  you,  Diana,"  remarked 
the  doctor. 

She  blushed.  "He's  friendly  enough,"  she  ex- 
plained, "if  you  give  him  pennies." 

"Wants  a  penny!"  said  Sammy  instantly,  his 
tousled  yellow  head  appearing  from  Diana's  skirt. 

Dr.  Cheyney  explored  his  pockets  and  found  a  new 
one.  "Come  and  get  it,"  he  said. 

Sammy  moved  over  slowly  and  doubtfully,  taking 
two  steps  backward  to  one  forward  every  time. 

"Suspicious,  eh?"  said  the  doctor,  displaying  the 
penny  at  a  nearer  view. 

Sammy  fell  upon  it  and  ran  back  to  Diana,  clasping 
it  close  in  his  fist. 

"An  embryo  financier,"  said  the  colonel,  musing, 
"and  the  dog  is  n't  what  one  would  call  a  prize-win- 
ner," he  added. 

"Caleb  took  'em  both  in,"  said  the  doctor;  "he  's 
made  that  way.  After  a  while  we  '11  understand 
him." 


284  CALEB  TRENCH 

"  Some  people  say  that  he  had  good  reason  to  take 
in  the  boy,"  remarked  Colonel  Roy  all  without  malice. 

"Father,"  said  Diana,  "I  wouldn't  have  believed 
it  of  you,  talking  scandal,  and  he  's  our  guest ! " 

"That 's  right,  keep  him  down,  Diana,"  said  the 
doctor;  "the  fact  is  there's  nothing  so  cruel  as 
people's  tongues.  Now  I  know  Sammy's  father  and 
sometimes  I  'm  tempted,  sore  tempted,  to  go  and 
post  it  by  the  wayside." 

"I  wish  you  would!"  said  Diana  with  sudden 
feeling,  "it's  only  just  to  —  to  Mr.  Trench." 

"That's  so  —  she's  right,  William,"  said  her 
father,  half  smiling. 

Dr.  Cheyney  reflected;  his  lined  old  face  lost 
some  of  its  whimsical  humor,  but  it  gained  hi  sym- 
pathy and  strength.  "  I  've  held  my  tongue  to  shield 
others,"  he  said  at  last,  "to  spare  the  feelings  of  a 
family  I  love.  What  would  you  do  about  it,  David? 
Do  you  think  it 's  right  to  plaster  a  scandal  on  to 
folks?" 

Diana  glanced  quickly  at  her  father,  keenly  aware 
of  his  concealment  and  that  this  all  must  touch  him 
to  the  quick.  The  old  man  looked  very  old  indeed. 

"  I  don't  think  it 's  right  to  let  the  thing  attach 
itself  to  Mr.  Trench  if  you  know  he  's  innocent,"  he 
said  at  length. 

"I  reckon  he'd  be  satisfied  to  be  justified  here," 
said  Dr.  Cheyney,  his  eyes  resting  on  Diana  as  she 
bent  down  and  caressed  Sammy. 

"  You  '11  have  to  make  it  public  to  be  of  any  use 


CALEB  TRENCH  285 

to  him  now,"  said  Colonel  Royall,  "the  other  story 
has  been  hi  every  newspaper  in  the  State." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Dr.  Cheyney,  "but,  David,  it 
will  come  home  to  you  here.  Sammy's  father  is 
Jacob  Eaton." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
Colonel  Royall  said :  "  It  is  singular  that  that  young 
man  has  managed  to  inflict  so  many  mortifications 
upon  his  family.  'Poor  Jinny!  She  was  always 
quoting  him  as  a  pink  of  propriety." 

"The  result  of  a  mollycoddle,"  said  the  doctor 
shortly.  "  Now  you  know  the  facts,  David,  and  it 's 
up  to  you.  Shall  I  tell  them?" 

Colonel  Royall  meditated.  "Poor  Jinny!"  he  said 
again,  "she  's  been  so  proud  of  him,  and  now  —  one 
blow  on  another,  no  wonder  she  's  given  up.  Poor 
Jinny!" 

"Father,"  said  Diana,  "we've  no  right  to  con- 
sider even  Cousin  Jinny,  only  Mr.  Trench." 

The  force  of  her  conviction  showed  through  her 
reserve.  She  felt  that  Caleb  Trench  had  borne  enough 
at  the  hands  of  their  relatives,  and  that  he  should  be 
the  scapegoat  of  one  of  Jacob's  sins  was  too  much. 

Colonel  Royall  raised  his  bowed  head.  "  She  's 
right,  William,"  he  said,  pathetically  resigned;  "tell 
it  to  the  world." 

Dr.  Cheyney  rose.  "Well,  it  has  seemed  like 
kicking  a  man  who  was  down,"  he  remarked,  "but, 
as  Diana  says,  there  is  Caleb  Trench." 

Diana  followed  him  out  into  the  hall.    "  Dr.  Chey- 


286  CALEB  TRENCH 

ney,"  she  said,  "why  did  no  one  tell  me  about  my 
mother?" 

The  old  man  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 
"Diana,"  he  said,  "it  was  David's  wish,  and  we  all 
respected  it.  I  wish  "  —  he  paused  —  "I  wish  Letty 
had  not  come  back.  But  she  wanted  to  see  you. 
Natural  enough,  I  reckon,  only  she  ought  to  have 
been  natural  in  that  way  at  first." 

"It  was  cruel  not  to  tell  me,"  said  Diana,  "but  I 
will  not  tell  him  so  —  dear  father ! " 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  thoughtfully.  "  You  're 
a  good  girl,  Diana,"  he  said. 

They  walked  together  to  the  door.  "Doctor,  do 
you  believe  that  —  that  my  mother  is  unhappy?" 
she  asked  at  last.  "I  could  not  go  to  her:  I  will  not 
leave  him." 

"Unhappy?  No,  child,  not  more  so  than  others," 
said  the  old  man.  "  She  's  got  to  bear  her  burden, 
Diana,  that 's  the  law  of  life.  Don't  you  fret ;  she  's 
rich,  courted,  influential,  I  've  known  it  for  years." 

"I  don't  see  how  she  could  treat  my  father  so!" 
cried  the  girl. 

"Thank  God,  you  never  will!"  said  the  doctor 
with  conviction. 

''She  wants  to  see  him,"  the  girl  faltered,  "I  — 
you  —  " 

"I  '11  tell  him,"  said  William  Cheyney. 


XXXI 

COLONEL  ROYALL  was  sitting  by  the  great 
fireplace  in  his  library.  Daylight  was  failing 
fast  at  the  windows,  and  the  long  bough  of  a 
hemlock  sweeping  across  the  one  toward  the  west 
was  outlined  against  the  whitening  sky.  The  colonel 
watched  it  as  it  swayed.  Once  and  awhile  he  turned 
and  looked  toward  the  door,  his  fine  old  hands  tight- 
ening on  the  carved  arms  of  his  chair. 

Twenty  years  ago  he  had  seen  her  last  hi  this  room, 
and  he  was  to  see  her  again  to-night.  A  singular 
feeling  tightened  about  his  heart.  When  we  have 
watched  through  a  long  vigil  with  a  great  and  ago- 
nizing sorrow,  when  we  have  rebelled  against  it,  and 
battled  and  fought  with  the  air,  in  our  vain  outcry 
against  its  injustice,  when  we  have  longed  and  wept 
and  prayed  for  release  hi  vain,  and  then,  at  last,  have 
laid  it  in  its  ashes  and  stood  beside  that  open  grave, 
which  yawns  sooner  or  later  in  every  past,  then  — 
the  coming  of  its  ghost  is  bitter  with  the  bitterness  of 
death. 

It  was  the  coming  of  the  ghost  for  which  Colonel 
Royall  waited  in  the  gathering  dusk,  the  ghost  who 
must  walk  over  the  white  ashes  of  his  love  and  his 


288  CALEB  TRENCH 

outraged  honor.  For  twenty  years  he  had  hidden 
the  mother's  sin  from  the  daughter,  he  had  made  her 
memory  sweet  to  her  child.  And  his  requital?  She 
had  tried  to  rob  him  of  that  one  comfort  of  his  life, 
to  take  his  daughter  away,  to  estrange  them  in  his 
hour  of  need.  In  that  hour  even  that  gentle  and 
simple  heart  knew  its  own  bitterness.  He  recalled 
every  incident  of  that  unhappy  past,  he  recalled  her 
beauty  and  her  indifference ;  again  and  again  he  had 
questioned  himself,  had  the  fault  been  his?  He  had 
loved  much  and  forgiven  much,  yet  it  might  be  that 
he  had  given  her  cause  for  weariness.  Had  the  nar- 
row routine  of  life  which  made  his  happiness  fretted 
her?  If  he  had  let  her  spread  her  butterfly  wings  in 
other  and  gayer  climes,  would  she  have  been  more 
content  to  return  at  last?  Perhaps,  —  he  did  not 
know. 

Fallacious  thought!  No  human  being  can  hold 
captive  another's  will  except  by  that  one  magic 
talisman,  and  love  for  David  Royall  had  never  really 
lived  in  his  wife's  heart.  Marriage  to  some  women 
is  a  brilliant  fete,  and  a  preventive  of  the  reproach 
which  they  fondly  believe  would  attach  to  them  in 
single-blessedness;  marriage  is  a  poultice  for  the  ills 
of  society,  and  the  latch-key  to  the  social  front  door, 
permitting  more  freedom  of  entrance  and  exit.  Yet 
it  is  a  poultice  which  some  are  exceedingly  anxious  to 
tear  off  after  a  short  application.  The  young  and 
beautiful  Letty  had  tried  it  twice  and  was  still  suffer- 
ing from  its  effects;  she  had  found  it,  in  both  in- 


CALEB  TRENCH  289 

stances,  grown  cold  and  lumpy.  Yet,  so  adorable  had 
been  her  youthful  ways,  so  sweet  and  engaging  her 
manner,  that  this  poor  man,  who  had  been  the  hus- 
band of  her  youth,  sat  hi  the  twilight,  searching  his 
heart  again  for  reasons  for  her  discontent,  no  living 
man  having  really  mastered  the  ways  of  woman. 

Night  had  fallen  in  the  room,  but  the  hemlock 
bough  was  still  outlined  against  the  pane,  for  the 
moon  was  rising.  Presently,  Kingdom-Come  came 
hi  softly  and  lit  the  tall  old  candelabrum  on  the  man- 
tel; he  was  going  on,  with  a  noiseless  step,  to  the 
other  lights,  but  the  colonel  stopped  him. 

"Has  no  one  come  yet?"  he  asked,  as  the  negro, 
leaving  the  lamps,  arranged  the  fire. 

"Not  yet,  Marse  David." 

The  colonel  sighed  inaudibly,  and  Kingdom  re- 
treated, not  over  pleased.  He,  too,  knew  that  some 
one  was  expected.  He  had  been  with  the  Royalls 
from  his  birth. 

A  light  step  came  down  the  hall,  and  the  colonel 
held  his  breath.  It  was  Diana,  but  she  did  not  come 
in;  he  heard  her  ascending  the  stairs.  Then,  hi  the 
long  silence,  the  hall  clock  chimed  seven,  the  outer 
door  opened,  and  the  colonel  again  heard  steps  come 
across  the  tessellated  floor  of  the  old  hall.  His  long 
white  hands  tightened  on  the  arms  of  his  chair,  the 
ghost  of  his  happiness  was  coming!  He  had  loved 
greatly,  he  was  to  look  again  on  the  face  of  her  who, 
loving  him  not,  had  betrayed  him.  Kingdom  opened 

the  library  door,  stood  aside  for  her,  and  closed  it 

19 


290  CALEB  TRENCH 

behind  her.  After  twenty  years  they  stood  here 
alone  together  —  face  to  face. 

The  colonel  shaded  his  eyes  and  looked  into  the 
fire;  the  grave  of  his  love  yawned  deep,  a  shudder 
ran  through  him.  Letitia  had  remained  standing 
by  the  door,  the  mature  elegance  of  her  figure,  the 
slightly  bent  head,  recalled  nothing  when  he  finally 
looked  up.  She  had  left  him  a  mere  girl ;  she  returned 
a  worn  woman  of  the  world;  the  suggestions  of  her 
past,  gay  and  unhappy,  seemed  to  penetrate  the 
classic  mask  of  her  still  beautiful  face.  He  knew  her 
even  less  than  Dr.  Cheyney.  He  made  an  attempt 
to  rise,  failed  and,  sinking  back,  motioned  her  to  a 
seat. 

She  took  it  without  a  word,  turning  her  face  aside 
to  avoid  the  light  of  that  one  tall  candelabrum.  In 
the  old  room,  facing  the  man  who  had  aged  so  greatly 
in  these  heavy  years,  she  was  ashamed.  She  had 
planned  a  dozen  glib  speeches,  but  her  parched  lips 
refused  to  utter  them.  She  put  her  ungloved  hand 
to  her  throat  with  a  gesture  that  was  like  one  who 
struggled  for  breath,  and  Colonel  Royall  noticed  the 
flash  of  the  jewels  that  she  wore  on  her  slender 
fingers.  A  little  thing  will  sometimes  turn  the  bal- 
ance of  thought,  and  the  flash  of  Letty's  jewels 
recalled  her  former  husband  to  himself.  He  remem- 
bered the  divorce  and  her  marriage.  Between  them 
the  white  ashes  of  the  past  fell  thick  as  snow.  He 
could  dimly  see  through  them  the  outlines  of  her 
matured  and  hardened  beauty,  and  the  suggestions 


CALEB  TRENCH  291 

of  that  life  in  which  he  had  played  so  small  a  part. 
He  thanked  God  devoutly  that  now  they  were  face 
to  face  he  saw  no  likeness  to  Diana. 

To  the  woman,  his  silence,  his  wan  age,  the  lines 
that  suffering  had  mapped  on  his  proud  face,  were 
unendurable.  She  spoke  at  last,  leaning  toward  him, 
her  clasped  hands  trembling  on  her  knee.  "  David,  I 
have  come  to  ask  your  forgiveness." 

The  colonel  returned  her  look  with  a  new  sad  seren- 
ity. "It 's  a  long  time  to  wait,"  he  said. 

She  made  a  little  involuntary  movement,  as  if  she 
wanted  to  go  to  him,  for  she  pitied  him  all  at  once, 
with  the  same  sweep  of  emotion  that  she  had  once  ab- 
horred him,  loving  another  man.  "I  have  wanted  it 
for  twenty  years,"  she  said,  and  then  added  impul- 
sively: "I  did  not  half  understand  how  much  you 
loved  me  —  until  I  heard  how  you  had  hidden  it  all 
from  Diana.  At  first  I  was  angry,  I  thought  you  did 
it  to  estrange  her  from  the  thought  of  her  mother. 
Then  I  realized  that  you  were  covering  my  disgrace, 
and  —  and  it  has  broken  down  my  pride ! "  She 
stopped  with  a  little  sob.  "David,  will  you  forgive 
me?" 

"I  forgave  you  twenty  years  ago,  Letitia,"  he  re- 
plied; "you  are  Diana's  mother." 

The  woman  looked  at  him  longingly.  "She  has 
been  —  she  is  much  to  you?" 

"She  is  all  I  have,"  said  Colonel  Royall. 

The  shamed  tears  welled  up  in  her  splendid  eyes, 
her  lip  trembled  like  a  child's.  "I  have  nothing!" 


292  CALEB  TRENCH 

she  sobbed  wildly;  "I  am  bankrupt!"  and  she 
dropped  her  head  on  her  hands. 

He  looked  over  at  her  with  compassion,  once  he 
passed  his  hand  lightly  across  his  eyes.  He  felt  the 
absolute  restraint  that  comes  to  one  whose  love  has 
been  lightly  prized ;  he  was  nothing  to  her,  it  was  not 
for  him  to  comfort  her,  while  Letitia,  cowering  in 
her  chair,  thought  him  cold-hearted,  unforgiving,  a 
proud  Royall  to  the  core.  Thus  are  we  misinter- 
preted by  those  who  love  us  not. 

"She  cares  nothing  for  me!"  she  sobbed,  "you 
have  taught  her  to  love  a  dead  woman !" 

"I  would  gladly  have  taught  her  to  love  her 
mother,"  the  colonel  said  quietly,  "but  how  could  I 
begin  the  lesson?  By  telling  her  that  you  had  de- 
serted her?" 

She  rose  at  that  and  stood  looking  at  him,  through 
her  tears.  "  You  have  had  your  revenge ! "  she  said 
wildly,  "you  have  had  it  a  thousand  times  over  hi 
that  one  reproach." 

"Letitia,"  he  said  gently,  "I  never  desired  re- 
venge. I  would  have  chastised  the  man  who  injured 
me  and  dishonored  you,  if  I  could  have  done  it  with- 
out dragging  your  name  before  the  world.  Other 
revenge  I  never  sought." 

"You  have  it!"  she  cried  again  bitterly,  "you 
have  it;  Diana  despises  me,  I  read  it  in  her  clear 
eyes.  You  have  brought  her  up  to  hate  her  mother's 
sin,  so  that  when  she  knew  it  she  would  hate  her 
mother." 


CALEB  TRENCH  293 

The  fine  old  hands  tightened  convulsively  on  the 
carved  arms  of  his  chair.  "Would  you  have  had  me 
bring  her  up  to  condone  such  sins?"  he  asked  her 
sternly,  his  blue  eyes  kindling. 

The  shaft  went  home;  its  truth  bit  into  her  sore 
heart.  "No,"  she  breathed,  hiding  her  face  in  her 
hands,  shaking  from  head  to  foot. 

There  was  a  long  silence  and  then  her  voice.  "I 
can  bear  no  more !" 

He  averted  his  eyes ;  her  struggle  hurt  him  deeply. 
Now  and  then  he  saw  her  as  she  used  to  be ;  little  re- 
minders of  her  youth,  her  early  beauty,  her  gayety, 
crept  through  the  change  in  her.  His  own  vision 
was  dimmed  with  tears.  After  a  while  she  grew 
more  calm,  and  began  to  gather  up  her  belongings, 
her  gloves,  her  purse,  the  boa  that  had  slipped  from 
her  shoulders,  with  those  little  familiar  gestures  that 
are  a  part  of  a  woman's  individuality,  and  yet  all 
women  share  them.  She  was  gathering  up  the  man- 
tle of  her  worldliness,  putting  on  the  worn  mask  of 
conventionality. 

"  I  am  going,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice  that  thrilled 
with  feeling,  "I  shall  never  see  you  again.  Will  you 
forgive  me,  David?  I  sinned  and  —  I  have  suffered, 
I  am  suffering  still." 

With  an  effort  the  old  man  rose  and  held  out  his 
hand.  In  the  gesture  was  all  the  stately  courtesy  of 
his  race  and  his  traditions.  "  I  forgave  you  long  ago," 
he  said. 

She  took  his  hand  a  moment,  looked  into  his  face, 


294  CALEB  TRENCH 

and  read  there  the  death  warrant  of  every  hope  she 
had  that  the  trouble  might  be  bridged,  her  daughter 
come  back  to  her.  Her  lips  quivered  and  her  shoul- 
ders rose  and  fell  with  her  quick  breathing. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  and  passed  slowly  down 
the  room  to  the  door. 

A  log  fell  on  the  hearth,  and  the  blaze,  shooting  up  a 
tongue  of  flame,  illumined  the  colonel's  gaunt  figure 
and  whitened  his  face.  At  the  door  Letitia  turned 
and  looked  her  last  upon  the  man  she  had  wronged, 
who  had  forgiven  her  and  yet,  through  the  love  of 
his  daughter,  had  so  deeply  smitten  her. 

She  went  out  weeping  and  alone. 


XXXII 

THREE  weeks  later  Judge  Hollis  found  Caleb 
able  to  walk  about  the  library.  The  wound 
had  healed,  but  the  fever  and  the  struggle  for 
life  had  told.  His  tall  figure  was  more  gaunt  than 
ever,  and  there  were  deep  hollows  in  his  cheeks.  He 
had  prevailed  with  Judge  Hollis  to  get  the  case 
against  Zeb  Bartlett  dismissed;  the  boy  was  half  an 
idiot,  and  the  story  of  Jacob  Eaton's  pistol  and  the 
money  that  Jacob  had  given  him  before  he  fled,  were 
too  choice  bits  to  get  into  the  newspapers.  Dr.  Chey- 
ney  had  put  down  the  scandal  which  made  Zeb's  shot 
a  revenge  for  Jean,  and  there  was  an  effort  now  to 
make  things  easy  for  poor  Jinny  Eaton,  who  had 
gone  to  relatives  in  Virginia,  still  bewailing  Jacob  and 
the  influx  of  anarchists,  which  seemed  to  her  to  be 
the  real  root  of  the  trouble,  as  these  incendiaries  must 
have  stirred  up  the  investigation  which  had  wrecked 
Jacob  before  he  had  time  to  recover  his  investments. 
For  years  she  spoke  of  these  alien  influences  which 
must  be  responsible  even  for  the  fluctuations  on  Wall 
Street.  Meanwhile,  Jacob  had  escaped  to  South 
America,  and  was  heard  of  later  as  a  financier  in 
Buenos  Ayres. 
Judge  Hollis  announced  his  escape  to  Caleb. 


296  CALEB  TRENCH 

"Got  off  with  a  cool  million,  I  reckon,"  said  the 
judge  grimly;  "by  the  Lord  Harry,  I  wish  I  could 
have  laid  him  by  the  heels." 

Caleb  smiled  faintly.  He  was  leaning  back  in  a 
big  armchair  by  the  fire,  and  the  window  before  him 
commanded  a  view  of  the  mountain  trail  where  he 
had  told  Diana  that  he  loved  her.  He  had  not  yet 
recovered  from  the  miracle  of  finding  himself  under 
Colonel  Royall's  roof.  He  glanced  now  about  the 
room  and  noticed  the  fine  air  of  simplicity  and  com- 
fort ;  the  deep-seated  leather  chairs,  the  old  mahogany 
table,  the  portraits  of  Colonel  Royall's  mother  and 
his  grandfather  hi  the  uniform  of  the  Colonial  Army 
on  the  walls.  On  the  table  was  a  great  cluster  of 
roses  from  Diana's  hothouses.  "I  am  glad  Jacob 
went,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Of  course!"  said  the  judge  with  sarcasm,  "it's 
my  belief  that  William  Cheyney  warned  him  in  time. 
It's  like  the  old  fool!" 

"Dear  Dr.  Cheyney!"   said  Caleb  warmly. 

"Dear  Dr.  Fiddlesticks!"  snapped  the  judge.  "I 
reckon  I  know  William;  we  played  alleys  together 
when  we  were  boys  and  I  licked  him  about  as  often 
as  he  licked  me." 

"The  eternal  bond  of  friendship,"  smiled  Caleb. 

"He  's  got  off  Jacob  and  you  got  off  Zeb  Bartlett," 
grumbled  the  judge,  "and  if  you  keep  on,  at  your 
present  gait,  you  '11  be  governor  of  this  State  in  two 
years.  Then  I  suppose  you  and  the  doctor  will  empty 
the  penitentiary." 


CALEB  TRENCH  297 

Caleb  laughed.  "  I  '11  get  your  help,"  he  said, 
"your  heart  is  n't  as  hard  as  you  pretend  it  is." 

"A  good  many  people  think  I  haven't  got  one," 
said  the  judge ;  "  I  reckon  they  don't  let  you  see  the 
papers  yet?" 

Caleb  shook  his  head. 

The  judge  grinned.  "And  yesterday  was  the  first 
Tuesday  in  November.  Drat  'em,  I  call  that  hard! 
I  '11  tell  you,"  he  leaned  forward,  his  fingers  on  Caleb's 
knee,  "the  Republicans  carried  the  State  by  a  plural- 
ity of  ten  thousand ;  Peter  Mahan  is  elected." 

Caleb's  amazement  kept  him  silent. 

"Your  fault,  sir!"  said  the  judge  triumphantly, 
"you  ripped  the  Democracy  in  two,  showed  the  ma- 
chine, convicted  the  governor.  By  the  Lord  Harry, 
boy,  I  voted  the  Republican  ticket !" 

Caleb  wrung  the  old  man's  hand.  "Now  I  know 
you  love  me,  Judge ! "  he  said. 

It  was  then  that  the  door  opened  and  Diana  ap- 
peared on  the  threshold,  bearing  a  little  tray,  Sammy 
at  her  skirts  and  Shot  trailing  behind  her.  "Judge," 
she  said,  "the  doctor's  orders  —  twenty  minutes  and 
no  politics ! " 

The  judge  got  up  and  reached  for  his  hat  and  cane. 
"I  'm  guilty,  Diana !"  he  cried. 

"Then  you'll  have  to  go,"  she  said,  and  smiled 
across  at  the  patient. 

It  was  only  the  third  time  Caleb  had  seen  her,  and 
he  did  not  know  how  often  she  had  hung  over  him  hi 
agony  when  he  lay  unconscious.  Diana,  meeting  his 


298  CALEB  TRENCH 

eyes,  turned  crimson.  She  remembered,  with  a  sud- 
den panic,  that  she  had  kissed  him  when  she  thought 
that  he  was  dying ! 

Meanwhile,  the  judge  went  out  grumbling.  He 
was  too  full  of  the  election  to  be  silenced,  and  went 
to  drink  a  mint  julep  with  Colonel  Royall.  Diana 
came  back  into  the  library  leading  Sammy.  The  dog 
had  bounded  to  his  master  and  lay  now  on  the  hearth- 
rug. Caleb  stood  by  his  chair,  pale  but  transformed. 

"You  must  not  stand,"  ordered  Diana,  as  she  set 
down  the  little  tray  on  the  table  and  began  to  arrange 
his  luncheon.  "Kingdom  is  out  and  I  brought  you 
some  lunch  myself/'  she  said  simply. 

"You  are  very  good  to  me,"  said  Caleb. 

She  had  turned  away,  and  Sammy,  who  was  devoted 
to  her,  had  again  appropriated  her  hand.  "  You  must 
not  stand,"  she  repeated,  "I  will  never  come  here 
again  if  you  cannot  obey  the  doctor's  orders." 

Caleb  smiled.  "I  'd  rather  obey  yours,  Miss  Roy- 
all,"  he  said,  his  eyes  following  the  two  figures,  the 
woman  and  the  child. 

Half-way  to  the  door  Diana  turned  and  let  go  the 
child's  detaining  fingers,  coming  toward  him  as  if 
with  some  new  resolve.  She  had  never  looked  more 
lovely  in  his  eyes,  though  to  him  she  had  always  been 
an  exquisite  picture.  The  warm  flood  of  November 
sunshine  filling  the  room,  and  the  deeper  glow  on  the 
hearth  touched  her  and  vivified  the  buoyancy  and 
freshness  of  her  personality.  Her  chin  was  slightly 
raised,  and  the  delicate  oval  of  her  face  glowed  with 


CALEB  TRENCH  299 

feeling;  it  seemed  to  him  that  her  eyes  were 
wonderful. 

"I  want  to  ask  your  forgiveness,"  she  said. 

"My  forgiveness?"  he  was  taken  aback,  "you 
have  done  everything  for  me,  been  everything  to  me ; 
it  is  I  who  should  ask  forgiveness  for  having  been  a 
burden  here." 

She  put  aside  his  thanks  with  a  gesture  at  once 
gracious  and  significant,  and  the  sweetness  of  her 
smile  arrested  the  words  on  his  lips.  "Nevertheless 
I  ask  your  pardon,"  she  said,  "  for  —  for  my  stupidity, 
my  ignorance,  my  want  of  manners  long  ago,  when 
you  came  here  to  the  house  and  I  treated  you  with 
discourtesy.  You  were  always  fine;  I  was  hateful. 
You  must  have  despised  me!" 

He  smiled  sadly.  "I  think  you  know 'that  I  did 
not,"  he  said. 

"I  deserved  it.  But  since  then  I  have  learned  to 
value  your  friendship,  to  honor  you  for  the  fight  you 
have  made." 

He  turned  toward  her ;  his  tall  gaunt  figure  seemed 
to  have  lost  some  of  its  awkwardness,  and  the  homely 
sweetness  of  his  haggard  face  had  never  been  more 
apparent.  "You  know,"  he  paused,  and  then  went 
on  with  deep  emotion,  "  I  recognized  then,  I  do  still, 
the  gap  between  our  lives,  but  it  cannot  change  the 
one  inevitable  fact  of  my  existence,  my  love  for 
you." 

The  color  rose  from  her  chin  to  the  arch  of  her 
lovely  brow,  but  her  lips  quivered.  "  You  know  that 


300  CALEB  TRENCH 

we  have  lost  almost  all  we  had,  and  —  about  my 
mother?" 

"  I  know,"  he  said  simply,  "  Dr.  Cheyney  told  me, 
and  "  —  he  looked  suddenly  at  Sammy  and  the  dog 
—  "  your  goodness  to  these,  when  you  must  think  —  " 

She  looked  up,  and  their  eyes  met.  "  Did  you  think 
my  heart  was  not  big  enough  for  all?"  she  asked. 

Sudden  joy  leaped  into  his  face,  transfiguring  it. 
" Diana,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  it  possible  that  through 
it  all,  in  spite  of  it  all,  you  love  me?" 

She  smiled.  "I  think  I  always  loved  you,  Caleb," 
she  said. 


THE  END 


A  Stirring  Story  of  Washington  Society 


THE   REAPING 


By  MARY   IMLAY  TAYLOR 

With  Frontispiece  in  color  by  George  Alfred  Williams 
12mo.        Cloth.        $1.50 


A  stirring  story  of  political  and  diplomatic  life  in 
Washington.  —  Chicago  Record  Herald. 

An  extremely  readable  novel.  .  .  .  She  has  pictured  the 
smart  diplomatic  set  of  Washington  in  interesting  colon. 
— New  York  American. 

Quite  the  best  picture  of  Washington  life  to  be  found. 
...  As  a  study  of  human  passions,  it  is  wonderfully 
exact.  —  Philadelphia  Item. 

Her  characters  are  very  much  alive,  and  her  style  is  at 
once  vivid  and  polished.  A  novel  which  it  is  a  pleasure 
to  commend.  —  Providence  Journal. 

Cabinet  officers,  leading  senators,  and  distinguished 
diplomats  move  in  these  pages  and  in  their  official  as 
well  as  social  functions.  —  Boston  Herald. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 


A  Novel  that  Mirrors  Washington  Society 


THE  IMPERSONATOR 


By  MARY   IMLAY  TAYLOR 
Illustrated  by  Ch.  Grunwald.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50 


An  exceedingly  fascinating  story.  —  Atlanta  Constitution. 

Not  only  a  most  absorbing  story,  but  the  ranking  novel 
of  those  whose  scenes  are  laid  in  Washington.  —  Lilian 
Whiting  in  Times-Democrat. 

The  humor  and  satire  with  which  social  life  in  the  cap- 
ital is  described  gives  the  book  a  deserved  popularity  even 
if  the  charming  love  story  and  surprising  denouement  did 
not  add  an  exceptional  degree  of  interest.  —  Washington 
Star. 

A  pretty  girl  art  student  in  Paris  is  induced  by  a 
homely  girl  art  student  to  go  to  Washington  as  the 
substitute  for  the  homely  one,  who  has  been  invited  to 
visit  a  rich  aunt  whom  she  has  never  seen.  From  first 
to  last  the  interest  is  skilfully  maintained.  —  St.  Louis 
Post  Dispatch. 

Clever  both  in  conception  and  execution.  ...  A  tale 
of  Washington  society  reflecting  with  accuracy  certain 
aspects  of  the  semi-fast  life  of  the  nation's  capital.  .  .  . 
The  characters  are  all  strongly  individualized  and  the 
action  is  as  swift  as  it  is  natural.  The  impersonator  her- 
self is  admirably  drawn.  —  Boston  Transcript. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &    CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
34-  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 


An  Old  World  Tale  of  Love  and  Daring 


M  Y    LAD  Y 
C  LAN  C  AR  T  Y 


By  MARY  IMLAY  TAYLOR 

Author  of  "On  the  Red  Staircase,"  "  The  Rebellion 
of  the  Princess,"  etc. 

Illustrated  in  tint  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens 
12mo.     289  pages.     $1.50 

Sparkling  and  fresh.  —  Pittsburg  Timet. 
Piquant  and  dainty.  —  Albany  Argus. 

Beautifully  written,  and  the  story  is  most  fascinating. — 
Mrs.  Leslie  Carter. 

A  charming  romance  of  a  proscribed  Jacobite  who  returns 
to  England  to  claim  the  wife  whom  he  had  not  seen  since 
she  was  a  girl  of  thirteen.  —  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

As  fetching  a  romance  as  modern  fancy  has  woven  about 
old  threads  of  fact.  —  New  York  World. 

The  style  is  at  once  picturesque  and  simple,  and  the 
lightly  sketched  pictures  of  life  in  the  far  days  are  well 
drawn  and  attractive.  Here  is  a  wholesome,  vigorous, 
stirring,  refreshing  tale.  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

An  engaging  story,  swift  in  action,  romantic  in  spirit, 
and  picturesque  in  setting.  —  Brooklyn  Times. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON 
At  all  Bookseller*" 


Mr.  Oppenheims  Latest  Navel 


THE  ILLUSTRIOUS 
PRINCE 


By  E.  PHILLIPS  OPPENHEIM 

Illustrated  by  Will  Foster.        Cloth.        $1.50 


Mr.  Oppenheim's  new  story  is  a  narrative  of  mystery 
and  international  intrigue  that  carries  the  reader  breath- 
less from  page  to  page.  It  is  the  tale  of  the  secret  and 
world-startling  methods  employed  by  the  Emperor  of 
Japan  through  Prince  Maiyo,  his  close  kinsman,  to  ascer- 
tain the  real  reasons  for  the  around-the- world  cruise  of  the 
American  fleet.  The  American  Ambassador  in  London 
and  the  Duke  of  Denvenham,  an  influential  Englishman, 
work  hand  in  hand  to  circumvent  the  Oriental  plot,  which 
proceeds  mysteriously  to  the  last  page.  From  the  time 
when  Mr.  Hamilton  Fynes  steps  from  the  Lusitania  into  a 
special  tug,  in  his  mad  rush  towards  London,  to  the  very 
end,  the  reader  is  carried  from  deep  mystery  to  tense 
situations,  until  finally  the  explanation  is  reached  in  a 
most  unexpected  and  unusual  climax. 

No  man  of  this  generation  has  so  much  facility  of  ex- 
pression, so  many  technical  resources,  or  so  fine  a  power 
of  narration  as  Mr.  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. —  Philadelphia 
Inquirer. 

Mr.  Oppenheim  is  a  past  master  of  the  art  of  construct- 
ing ingenious  plots  and  weaving  them  around  attractive 
characters.  —  London  Morning  Post. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTOK 


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